


sink and drown

by kitthae



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Body Horror, Domestic, Fluff, Healing, Heavy Angst, M/M, Romance Does Not Cure Trauma, Slow Burn, Transformation, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 66,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25857358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitthae/pseuds/kitthae
Summary: It was quiet when he woke up.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 50
Kudos: 209





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> Helloo!  
> It's been a little over two months since I posted my last fic and dropped off the face of the Earth, but I promise I've been spending my time well! Namely writing this monster of a fic. It's already done, and I will post the total of 18 chapters throughout the next few weeks. This is the first one, and I will update probably every Wednesday and Sunday, while I already work on my next fic.  
> Once again, a big thank you to my lovely friend Laura for accompanying me throughout this journey and always supporting me. Love you! ♥
> 
> !! PLEASE READ THESE NOTES !!
> 
> This fic is rated mature not for any sexual content, but for rather graphic descriptions of possibly disturbing scenes (e.g. body horror) that will appear in later chapters. I will give appropriate warnings before each chapter that may contain such content. This fic will also deal with themes of trauma, mental illness, chronic illnesses and overcoming internalized biases. I wrote a lot of this from my own personal experience with these topics and I tried to be as respectful as possible. If you ever see a problem with anything I wrote here, please let me know so we can have a discussion about it and figure out what I should change. Thank you!
> 
> Another disclaimer that I feel like I need to put: I hate J.K. Rowling. She's a TERF and I do not agree, in fact I vehemently disagree, with any of her ideologies, and I agree that the Harry Potter Universe contains many of her views and that you cannot simply separate a problematic author from their work, so I advise all of you to read critically. I believe that I tried my best to not mention any of the problematic parts of the HP Universe in this fic. You are still allowed to enjoy this universe, and you are still allowed to enjoy the books, just as many other people enjoy "classic" literature that was written by problematic people, but it's always important to keep your eyes open and recognize the effect that JKR's ideologies and views had and still have on her work. Thank you.
> 
> Now please enjoy this first chapter! Only a small warning for slight creepiness at the end.

When his last class let out, Renjun was beyond just exhausted. His brain felt cooked in his head despite the temperature staying mild for late March, and every thought process went by sluggishly, at best.

He’d been stuck in the dungeons almost the entire day, when he and Donghyuck had had a long study date in the common room to finally get their Transfiguration essays done, and then he’d had to sit through a three hour Potions class. His body was craving movement, and more importantly, sunlight.

He found Donghyuck and Jeno under a tree outside the castle, Donghyuck’s long legs stretched out across the grass, and Jeno with his nose stuck in one of his books for History of Magic. They had snacks lying in the grass next to them, too, which was ultimately what drew Renjun towards them instead of up into Mark’s office where he wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the sun, but could have had some tea and a few of Mrs Lee’s infamous chocolate biscuits.

Donghyuck grunted lowly when Renjun dropped to the ground next to him.

“Are you guys done yet?” he asked as he moved to lie down in a position similar to Donghyuck’s.

Donghyuck seemed to be — his tie was resting undone across his chest, his eyes were fluttering shut where the sun was shining directly onto his cheeks, and his heavy book bag was nowhere to be seen.

Jeno, however, waved with his book and let out a deep sigh. “I still have to sit through a two-hour class with Yunho.”

Renjun pulled a sympathetic grimace at him. Professor Jung was notoriously known for going overtime with his classes quite a lot, too passionate about his subject to ever put an end to the lesson. Jeno had gotten stuck in his classroom on late Friday afternoons more than once, but it was especially painful with break right around the corner.

It was the last day of classes before the train to London would go that Saturday, and Renjun was so glad to be done. He undid the knot of his tie and spread out next to Donghyuck.

“Where’s Jaemin?” he asked after a couple minutes of comfortable silence. Just the three of them lazing around in the afternoon sun, getting warmer with the changing season — but the lacking presence of their fourth part was jarring.

Donghyuck, who’d had his eyes closed next to him, opened them again just to scoff. “Jaemin’s on a _date.”_

Renjun could feel his abdominal muscles tense up, and he couldn’t really tell why. “On a date?”

“Yeah.” Donghyuck shrugged, while Jeno submitted into a fit of giggles behind them. “This sixth year girl asked him out and he wouldn’t tell any of us about it because he was embarrassed. I only know because I caught him sneaking out of his dorm all dressed up. Little bow tie and his best robe, and all, it was kind of cute.”

Renjun smiled to himself, crossing his legs. “Is it a nice one, this time, at least?”

The last girl to ask Jaemin out that he’d gotten all dressed up and excited for had been a Hufflepuff in their year. Renjun had never heard what exactly had happened on that date, but Jaemin had come trudging back into the castle with a frown and hidden in the Ravenclaw tower for the rest of the day. They’d never gone out again, and they hadn’t seen her around for the rest of the year. Renjun had never asked, but he’d squeezed the back of Jaemin’s neck at breakfast.

Donghyuck shrugged again. “I don’t know her, but she’s a Ravenclaw, so I guess Jaemin does. Let’s hope he’s learned his lesson the last time and does a little background check before he dates again.”

Renjun frowned with a sudden thought. “Wait, Jeno, isn’t Jaemin in your History of Magic class?”

Jeno looked up from his book and shrugged helplessly. “I told him that Yunho wouldn’t let him get away with that, but he wouldn’t listen. It was weird, I thought he loved History of Magic, but apparently this date was more important …”

Renjun kept on frowning at the sky, but he said nothing else about it. Jaemin would have known best.

The bell in the tower chimed, and Jeno sighed as he stuffed his book into his bag and pushed himself up. “Well, I’ll see you guys at dinner,” he said, but before he could sling his bag over his shoulder and leave, Renjun scrambled up.

“Wait, I’ll walk you there,” he said, grabbing his own bag.

Jeno frowned, but relented when Renjun slung his arm under his. “... Okay?” he said, but Renjun was undeterred.

He pulled Jeno towards the castle by their linked arms with a big grin, and Jeno looked increasingly confused behind him, but he was not complaining, which Renjun decided to enjoy. Jeno had always been weirdly easy to placate, and after a few minutes of walking together, he looked more amused, almost content, than bewildered.

“Is there a reason I get a personal escort?” he asked when they turned into the corridor his class was on.

Renjun shrugged and let go of him in front of the door. “Dunno. Maybe I just wanted to spend some more time with my best friend before I have to leave him in the hell pit.” He winked and Jeno laughed. “Have fun with Yunho.”

“I will,” Jeno said, pushing the door open.

Over his shoulder, Renjun spotted Jaemin at his desk, face buried in the required reading. He smiled to himself on his way back down to Donghyuck.

By the time the train rolled into the Hogsmeade station around lunch the next day, Renjun had his trunk packed with all he’d need, was dressed in his most comfortable clothes and ready to go. And like every year, Donghyuck was nowhere close to that.

His mother must have had to have tried to teach him some packing spells, because around half an hour before they should’ve headed down to the station — when Renjun was already done with packing all of his things and was just sitting on his bed, waiting — Donghyuck directed his wand at the heap of clothes at the foot of his bed, promptly causing them to explode all over the room, catching on bedposts and the silver chandelier that dangled from the ceiling.

“No way!” he gasped, scrambling after his stuff. “She _swore_ this would work. It looked so easy!”

“You might have to put some effort into your spells if you want them to work,” Hyunjin lazily commented from where he perched on his own bed. He was staying here over the holidays and was just here to watch Donghyuck’s misery.

Donghyuck pouted, and gingerly started picking up the shirts that had landed in closer proximity to his bed. With a sigh, Renjun reached for his own wand, and a flick of it sent the clothes shooting back into Donghyuck’s face. He screamed again and tried to free himself from the shirt wrapping itself around his head. Renjun let himself have a moment of silent joy before he relented and flicked his wand again — Donghyuck’s clothes started folding themselves mid-air and settling into his trunk. Renjun had had to learn these spells years ago. His mother had always been too busy.

They still left too late, because Donghyuck remembered he still had to fetch his toothbrush and other stuff from the bathroom — Renjun decided not to comment that if Donghyuck’s family could afford multiple residences all across the country, they surely could have afforded a new toothbrush for a week of spring holidays.

Jeno and Jaemin looked rather impatient when they finally met them in the entrance hall.

“We’re going to miss the train because of you twats,” Jeno complained as they speed walked down the path to Hogsmeade, with only a few minutes until the train’s departure to spare. “I _told_ you we should’ve just left without them.”

He didn’t mean that, of course, he just wanted to prove a point to Jaemin, and they did reach the station just on time. Professor Kang, watching over the students on the platform, threw them a stern glance.

Renjun left his friends in their compartment for a bit after the train departed to stride through the hallway — a duty as head boy, to make sure that everything was going well, but he was also scanning the compartments for a familiar face. Teachers rarely took the Hogwarts Express to and from school, but Mark had yet to give up the tradition.

He found him trapped in the middle of a group of third years at the very front of the train — he sent Renjun a helpless glance, begging for help, but Renjun just grinned and indulged in the chaos for a little while.

“What’s going on here, Lee?” he asked eventually, when he got bored watching them, and stepped closer. “Can’t you handle yourself? Do you really need one of your students to step in and help you?”

Mark’s face grew beet red, and two of the third years looked up at Renjun, hiding their giggles behind their hands.

“Oh, shut it,” Mark scolded him, and the younger kids seemed surprised by his brashness towards a student, until they saw Renjun’s calm smile. “I’ve been looking for you guys everywhere. Where were you?”

Renjun shrugged. “Donghyuck caused a minor disaster again.” He wrapped his hand around Mark’s arm, effectively dragging him out of and away from the gaggle he’d been trapped in.

Donghyuck had a penchant for messing up when they needed to be punctual, and had no time to clean up after him.

As he led Mark back to the compartment their friends were waiting in, he linked arms with him. Just like he’d done with Jeno the day before. Just like he might have done with Donghyuck earlier, if they hadn’t been in such a hurry.

“You’re so touchy,” Mark commented, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Renjun replied easily, because he was. He wasn’t normally very touchy, not one for gestures of affection through physical contact like Jaemin and even Donghyuck were, but he’d been feeling like it, lately. Why, he couldn’t say, because Donghyuck had asked him about it, too, and until he had, Renjun hadn’t even noticed. Nothing felt out of the ordinary for him, though. He was just a bit clingier. Probably. “I just want to hang out with my friends.”

Looking back on it, though, maybe it was indeed some kind of sign.

Saying goodbye to his friends at King’s Cross was always an event, no matter for how long they would be apart. The spring holidays were only a week, and most people didn’t even bother to go home for that, but Renjun had missed his family terribly, and he also direly needed a break away from the castle he spent every living minute in.

Their final year at Hogwarts so far had been twice as exhausting as the six years before combined, filled with tests and homework and projects, too many for Renjun to even try to keep up. He’d missed a deadline with Professor Kang and had to beg her, almost under tears, to still give him some points when he finally handed the essay in.

So when the Hogwarts Express rolled into platform 9 ¾, and they were all ready for a week away from it all, Donghyuck and Jaemin still had to make a scene out of it.

Renjun tried to escape as fast as possible — he squeezed Mark and Jeno against his chest in a goodbye hug, and wanted to make a run for it immediately after — but he was yanked backwards by the back of his robes.

“Don’t think you’ll get away that easy, Huang,” Jaemin said, crushing Renjun’s skull against his ribcage.

Renjun grumbled against the front of Jaemin’s robes, trying to push him off, but to no avail. Instead, Donghyuck attached himself to him, too, clinging onto Renjun’s back and giggling into his ear.

Chenle stepped out of the train somewhere behind them, and he had the gall to laugh at Renjun’s predicament. Much to Renjun’s joy, though, that only earned him Donghyuck letting go of Renjun to attack Chenle instead — long arms thrown around Chenle’s shoulders as Donghyuck squeezed him to his chest and smacked loud kisses on his head.

Renjun stayed next to Jaemin, who now held him a lot softer, too busy laughing at Donghyuck tormenting Chenle.

If he let himself sag a little, let his head rest against Jaemin’s chest voluntarily as Jaemin kept his arm loosely wrapped around his shoulders, that would be a secret that neither of them would ever tell.

“Okay,” Renjun said eventually, pushing away from Jaemin and trying to get Donghyuck to let go of his brother, too. “Our parents are waiting at home, we shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.”

Donghyuck pouted, but he let go of Chenle after another short round of kisses that made Chenle squeal.

When he was finally freed from the hell that was Donghyuck’s arms, Renjun said a last goodbye to his friends before he linked arms with Chenle and pulled him towards the exit of the station. Just before they melted through the brickwall, though, Renjun turned around and gave his friends one last wave, and a smile.

“I’ll see you guys in a week,” he yelled, and pulled Chenle out onto the space between platform nine and ten, where he wrapped his hand around Chenle’s arm and apparated home before any of the muggles could spot them.

Their parents were indeed waiting at home, and so were all of their older brothers.

Renjun stumbled a bit when he and Chenle appeared in the hallway to be greeted with Guanheng and Kun lazing on the stairs, and a heap of bags packed in the middle of the room. Xuxi came falling through the door not a minute later, and they all yelled for their parents. “They’re here, they’re here, come on!”

“What’s going on?” Renjun asked when Kun stood up to pull him and Chenle into a hug. “Are we leaving?”

Kun laughed and patted Renjun’s shoulder. “Oh, I wish,” he said. Behind him, Xuxi dropped another bag on the heap already built up. “We’re just going back to the old house for the week, more space for the rest of the family to come.”

Their old house — the place Renjun had grown up in before they had moved into the small apartment on top of the family shop in Diagon Alley when he was fourteen. It was an old mansion, had been in the family for centuries, and sat on top of the juicy green hills of the countryside, where the rare summer sun turned the hill tops golden and the large trees turned bright orange in autumn. Renjun had had a room to himself in the old house, and his window had overlooked the vast fields that surrounded the house. He and his brothers had played rounds of hide and seek that could last for days, and Renjun had been able to avoid seeing any of his family members for as long as he’d wanted to.

Now, he had to share a room with Chenle, and the apartment was too small for anyone to hide for long.

“Junjun! Lele!” Their mother came rushing down the stairs with another bag dragging behind her. She reached Chenle first, wrapping him in a big hug, but their father clamored down right after her, and Renjun had to hold through a hug from him that was not unlike the skull-crushing embrace that Jaemin had held him in earlier.

Not long thereafter, his mother came to hug him, too.

“Both back in one piece, thank Merlin.” She laughed, squeezing Renjun’s arm. “Did they tell you where we’re going already?” After they’d both nodded, she continued, “All right, you have your bags packed, do you need anything else from here? Because I think we’re more or less ready to go, if you are.”

Renjun shook his head — most of his things were at Hogwarts, anyway. He normally only left a few old clothes at home when he left in the summer, and he brought enough clothes for a week back with him.

Chenle, too, seemed to be good, and their mother clapped her hands excitedly.

“All right, then. Boys, do you have everything?” Another three nods, and she turned around to the kitchen door, behind which their father had vanished during some part of the conversation. “Lin? I think we’re good to go!”

Their father stumbled back out of the kitchen with a rusty can in his hand. “Everyone grab as many bags as you can hold onto. Or well, whatever bags you need, I guess,” he told them, before he strapped two big backpacks onto his back and chest, and held the can out into the middle of their circle.

Renjun just kept his hand wrapped around the handle of his trunk and put his finger against the can. The tin was warm under his skin, vibrating slightly with the spell that was trapped in it, about to break free.

The very second after Chenle, under strong urging from their parents, had finally put his finger on the can, too, they were zipped into whatever room between time and space portkeys hurled you into to get you from one place to the next. It felt like both an eternity and the fraction of a second until they were spat out in front of the house. Renjun’s feet met the ground with such a mind-numbing thump that he lost his footing for a bit, stumbled, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he gripped his trunk tighter and followed where the rest of his family was already marching up to the front doors.

The house was as nice as they had left it years ago — he knew that his parents still sometimes came back here when he and his brothers were at school, and it still belonged to the family, and they still used it for occasions like this, so they had charms in place to keep things clean and tidy even when the house went uninhabited for a long time.

His mother whisked the curtains open with a flick of her wand, and Renjun felt generous enough to levitate Chenle’s trunk up the stairs and into his room, too, as he could not use magic outside of Hogwarts just yet.

“Would they even notice?” he asked over dinner, when all seven of them were seated along the large table in the dining hall, and were eating some foreign soup, a recipe that Kun had brought home from his travels and had decided to try out on them. “If I used magic. Can they even pinpoint who used the magic? It could’ve been one of you.”

Their mother sent him a stern glance. “It doesn’t matter if they can tell or not, because I definitely can, and you’ll be grounded for the rest of the week if you even try.”

Chenle pouted, but dug back into his soup a moment later.

The rest of their family — grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins — would arrive the next day, and stay with them for the rest of the week, until Chenle and Renjun would have to go back to London to catch the train to school.

Renjun didn’t know if he was excited to see them all. It had been a while, certainly, which is why his parents were so happy to be here, but normally, Renjun was always glad to go long periods without having to see any of his extended family. He loved his cousins, his aunts and uncles were great people who always showered him in love, and his grandmother had practically raised him. But it was also always loud when they were all in one place, and while the house had always been great to hide in with just his brothers, it became more difficult with more people around.

He went to bed feeling a bit uneasy that night — and he couldn’t say if it was because of Kun’s soup or not. He was staying in his old bedroom, with the same old bed and the same old window that overlooked the same old hills. He used to love it here, but after years of not even having a room to himself when he was at home, he wasn’t used to the silence.

And something was off. He couldn’t say what, but when he looked out of the window onto the dark hills, he felt as if something was different out there. A presence, maybe a tree that had not been there when they’d moved away —

No, it was deeper than that. It was almost like a pull, like a shadow flitting by his window, a shape he could not quite hash out. It was dark, even though the moon filtered through the thin sheen of clouds — almost full. Renjun squinted up at it, and when he looked back down, he caught the flash of a reflection between the bushes — eyes.

He flinched away from the window, blinked until his heart calmed down. Someone was out there. But when he wanted to sprint downstairs and tell his parents, he found himself creeping closer to the window again.

There was nothing. Not even a dent in the bushes where the figure must have been crouching. If they had left, that meant they must have watched Renjun, and realized that he had spotted them. A chill crept down his back, but he shook his head and drew the curtain closed. His parents had put protection spells around the house years ago, just as a precaution against thieves — no one who was not invited should be able to get in. He was safe here.

He pulled his blanket a little closer to his chest when he went to sleep a little later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will see you on Sunday! Please leave a Kudos if you enjoyed this first chapter, and maybe a comment if you have anything to say! :D 
> 
> You can find on Twitter as @kitthae


	2. two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I'd post the next update on Sunday, but after uploading the first one yesterday I realized that it would be Jaemin's birthday today, and since I posted my last fic on Hyuck's birthday, too, I figured it would be nice to keep up the tradition. Happy Birthday Jaemin!
> 
> This chapter will finally get the main plot started :^)
> 
> Warnings: Creepiness, horror movie typical stupidity displayed by characters, monsters/creatures, animal attack.

By the time his relatives spilled out of the fireplace the next morning, Renjun had already forgotten about the incident.

Aunt Qing was first, sliding through the fireplace with a gentle _Oops_ and a small cloud of smoke. Her children heeled her, all three of them tumbling into the room at the same time, accompanied by a _big_ cloud of smoke and other things they sent flying across the room with their arrival. Their mother sighed, and hexed the room clean.

“Renjun!” Elkie flew towards him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. She was only two years older than him, but she still squeezed his cheek between her thumbs and cooed, “Ooh, look at you. You’ve grown so big!”

She moved on to Chenle soon enough, though, and Renjun turned back around to the main room just in time for the fire to light up again — his grandparents stepped out one after another, his grandfather brushing a bit of soot from his robe, and his grandmother dressed in her familiar ruby red attire. She hugged Renjun closely to her chest.

Luckily for him, he was not the main attraction of the get-together just yet — he was sure his time would come, his impending graduation would surely become a topic more than once over the next few days, but for the moment, the main center of attention was poor Xuxi, who had recently completed his training to be a healer at St. Mungo’s. Aunt Qing, Elkie and her siblings, as well as their grandparents, were already crowded around him to shake his hand and pat his back.

“They grow up so fast,” Elkie wept, wiping a fake tear from under her eye, even though she and Xuxi were roughly the same age. “I still remember when you pooped your pants more than me.”

Their uncles Tao and Zihao, accompanied by their son, slid into the room next — and promptly attacked Xuxi.

Renjun was only safe until lunch, though. Once all of their extended family had stumbled into the room, they had set the table with a few winks of wands, and they had all sat down, the questions started.

“You’re almost done with school, aren’t you, Renjun?” Aunt Qing asked, as she cut into her steak.

Renjun swallowed around his own piece of meat, nodded — and that opened the floodgates for the rest of them.

_How are classes going? Do you already know what you want to do after you graduate? Your brothers did that, are you thinking of something similar? Will you help your parents with the shop? Will you stay at home, will you leave the country like Kun? What N.E.W.T.s are you taking again? Oh, well, I wouldn’t have picked that if I was you …_

He barely had time to breathe, but he tried to answer whatever questions were thrown at him.

“What about your friends?” his grandmother asked. She had a kind face, round and wrinkly with eyes that twinkled at him like in a joke only he could understand. “That lovely boy you brought with you once, what was his name again?”

Renjun cleared his throat. “Jaemin.” He kicked Chenle under the table when he started giggling into his fist.

“Ah, yes,” his grandmother smiled, nodding. “That’s right. Are you still friends with him?”

Chenle started full-on laughing now, and Renjun kicked him harder, without ever stopping smiling at his grandmother. “Of course I am, grandma. We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

She nodded, returning his smile. “That’s lovely. Does he already know what he wants to do?”

Renjun scratches the back of his head. “I think as of right now he’s planning on helping our other friends’ parents at their shop in Hogsmeade. I don’t know if he’s planning on doing anything beyond that just yet.”

Chenle had stopped laughing by then, but a grin flashed across his face again. “He doesn’t want to say it, but he’s actually really glad about that,” he said, and Renjun tried to kick him again, but he pulled his leg away and wiggled his eyebrows at him. “If Jaemin stays at Hogsmeade, they’ll be _very_ close once Renjun works at Hogwarts.”

Elkie laughed across the table, finally getting what Chenle had been giggling about. Renjun leaned his cheek against his hand to falsify casualness, only to find his skin to be scorching under his fingers. He sighed.

“Well, yes. I will be very glad if that’d happen, because Mark also works at Hogwarts, now, and it would be great to have my friends close to me even after we all graduate.”

Graduation had actually been a topic looming over their friend group — where would they all go once school would not be binding them to one place anymore? Would they remain friends if they didn’t see each other that often? Maybe not for weeks or months on end? Communication via owls and floo was fast, but would they keep up with that? Or would they all be too wrapped up in their new jobs? So far, nothing much had changed as Mark, the only one of them who had already graduated, came back to Hogwarts right again with them to train as a teacher. And while it was great that they still had him close, it left open the question of what would happen once one of them inevitably ended up somewhere else.

Hogwarts had been their home for years now, the center of their friendship, the place where they had made all of their memories. Renjun wanted to stay — not so much for nostalgic reasons; he’d wanted to be a teacher even before he met any of his friends. But most of his friends wanted to work somewhere else. Maybe even outside of the United Kingdom.

It was an uneasy topic to talk about even in the melancholic quiet of the night in the Slytherin boys’ dormitory, when Mark, Jaemin and Jeno snuck over. It was even worse over lunch with his family.

His grandmother seemed to sense his uneasiness — or his embarrassment, whatever one she decided to focus on in that moment — and dropped the topic to turn to Guanheng, who had started training with their father and working at the family shop since he’d graduated last summer, instead.

When he helped his mother clean the table and sent the dishes into the sink with a wink of his wand, she squeezed his arm fondly. And when he turned around, she gave him a reassuring smile.

“It will all be okay, Junjun. In the end, things will rarely ever turn out the way you plan them.”

After the sun had set and he had spent another slow, embarrassing conversation over dinner with his entire family present, Renjun finally retreated into his room. It was the farthest from the other bedrooms, on the third floor of the west wing, while most of the others were on the second floor in the main part of the mansion. He had been glad about that when he’d been a child, far enough away to hide from his brothers if he’d wanted to. But when he entered the room that night, he threw a wary glance out of the window and quickly drew the curtains closed, before he could see anything.

For a brief moment, he even contemplated giving up his room for the week and surrendering into one that was closer to all the others. The closest person to him in that moment was probably Elkie’s younger sister Xiang, whose room was somewhere on the floor below him, but still closer to the main building than to him.

He pulled on his pyjamas and brushed his teeth in the adjoining bathroom, staying far from the windows.

Just as he was about to crawl into his bed and forget about the world for a few hours, there was a knock on the door, and a moment later it flew open so hard Renjun almost leapt a few feet away from his bed with how hard he flinched.

“Sweet Merlin, calm down.” It was Elkie, leaning against the frame of his bedroom door with her arms crossed over her chest. “What’s got you so on edge? Were you waiting for someone?” She wiggled her brows.

Renjun shook his head. “No, that’s not it …” He peeled back his covers to sit down on his bed.

“Well, what is it, then?” She raised one of her eyebrows, now.

Renjun had always liked Elkie — she was fun, one of his favourite cousins and someone he had always seen like a real sister. He was almost sure that she wouldn’t laugh at him if he told her he thought someone had been watching him through his bedroom window the night before. That there was someone in the hills outside.

But when he did just that — she did laugh. She laughed, and she squeezed his arm a bit, and she said, “Well, whatever creature you saw lurking out there, it won’t get in here. So you can stop worrying about that.”

He frowned. Of course he knew that the house was safe, he didn’t doubt his parents’ ability to protect them, but that didn’t diminish the fact that he had seen someone out there, and that he was rather creeped out by it.

“Okay,” Elkie said when he told her that. “Let’s go outside then. I’ll show you there’s nothing to worry about there.”

Renjun didn’t remember how he’d ended up agreeing to it. It had probably been some kind of stupid attempt to save his pride, hurt after Elkie had doubted him. Proving that she’d been wrong to do that would feel like a small victory to his pride, but the longer they trudged through the grass in their pyjamas, coats lazily thrown over their shoulders and boots pulled over their pants, the more Renjun realized what other thing would come with him being right.

Because if he was right, there really _was_ someone out there with them in that moment. And they were no longer inside the safe confines of the house, behind his parents’ barrier of protection spells.

He was about to suggest to Elkie that they head back inside, fully ready to take the shame of admitting to being a coward in stride, when she turned around to him to spread her arms and grin. The only thing illuminating her out here was the full moon, and it cast strange shadows across her face that almost made Renjun shudder.

“See? There’s nothing out here. Except for some really overgrown plants, Merlin’s beard …”

For some reason, she kept on marching further after that, as if to prove to Renjun how safe it really was. He was inclined to just ditch her and scurry back inside — but he wouldn’t want to be alone out here, so he decided he couldn’t do that to her, either. He clutched his wand a little tighter when she reached the trees and waded through the bushes.

It was not a forest; the trees were not dense enough to call it that, but the bushes were nasty and hard to walk through when your clothes got stuck on thorns and little twigs sticking out.

The edge of Renjun’s coat got caught up in a tangle of thorns so thick he had to bend down for a second and pull at the fabric to untangle it — a second too long, apparently, because when he looked up again, there was no trace of Elkie in front of him. She must’ve continued without him, and it was too dark to see more than a few meters ahead of him.

They’d been avoiding lighting up their wands so as to not draw attention from the house — or from any other people who might have been lurking out here — but Renjun cast a _Lumos_ now, quickly, and raised his wand.

Gathering all his courage and trying not to think of what might’ve been out there, he called, “Elkie?”

Something rustled to his right — his breath hitched. That was not the direction Elkie had been walking in the last time he saw her. The steps that slowly turned to his direction were too heavy to be hers. And he heard breathing. Wet, heavy breathing, almost like an animal, but it was approaching on two feet —

Somewhere in front of, distinctly not from the direction that that thing was approaching from, Elkie called, “Wait — Oh! Renjun, I’m right over here, wait, I’ll come to you —”

He stood frozen, clutching onto his wand for dear life. His mind was blank of any spells he’d ever learned. The thing was breathing heavily, still, and way too close to him now. Its steps grew heavier. Twigs broke under its feet, or maybe under it pushing the bushes out of its way. Renjun couldn’t move, couldn’t _think,_ his entire body was frozen to stone.

Elkie’s coat got stuck in the bushes, too, and she laughed, clearly not having registered any of what was happening. “Ah, bloody hell, wait — I’ll be there, just a second —”

But it was too late. He had half the mind to call out to her to run, but he couldn’t get anything past his lips.

Two more quiet cracks of twigs fell onto Renjun’s deaf ears, and the bushes in front of him grew very silent as the eyes he had seen from his window the night before stared back at him. Just — larger, darker, less human. He could only just vaguely register that only its posture was vaguely human shaped. It walked on two bowed legs and had a hunched back that ended in an enormous head with perked up ears and a long snout full of teeth that glistened with dripping saliva, and the full moon cast a silver glow to its dull fur — its _fur …_

Then everything happened way too fast.

Elkie freed herself and laughed. Renjun finally managed to part his lips. A scream ripped from his throat, effectively silencing his cousin, and the creature leapt.

He felt the claws first. It grabbed him mid-leap, dragging him to the ground with it and snarling into his ear. The pain was mind-numbing, coursing through every part of his body, rendering him silent and limp in the creature’s grasp. It pressed him down into the dirt, its claws dug into his skin seemingly everywhere, pinning him down with ropes of pain. It raised its head, and the moonlight reflected white off of its canines.

The sight of death coming to do her calling. From there on out, there was nothing but pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time I will really see you on Sunday. Happy Jaemin day to everyone!
> 
> Leave a Kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed :D
> 
> You can find me on Twitter as @kitthae


	3. three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again :^D
> 
> Warnings: Threat of death, hospital stay, talk of discrimination by law, a court scene.

It played with the string of every nerve inside his body; it sung a song of suffering in his chest even in his rare conscious moments. It surged through him, burnt him from the inside out. But at least the ground was softer, now.

Pain had become Renjun’s friend. How long had he been there — minutes? Hours? Days? It didn’t matter. Pain was his friend, now, it lived inside of him; it numbed him to every other sensation and thought. He was floating. The forest ground didn’t dig into his back anymore, and he couldn’t hear Elkie moving, couldn’t feel the creature on top of him.

He was sure this was the end. Being alive didn’t feel like this.

Pain let him dangle, though, because dead people also weren’t in pain. He wasn’t dead yet, he knew, but he would be soon. He had looked death into the eyes the very moment that the creature broke out of the bushes in front of him. He had known it in that moment — that had been it. Maybe he had already known when they’d left the house. Maybe he had already known when he’d first seen the pair of eyes in the bushes from his window.

Or maybe he had just been a boy, a stupid one at that, who hadn’t known anything, and who didn’t deserve this.

It didn’t matter. He was floating, and everything that hurt him would be over soon.

His hands dangled uselessly off his body, his eyes couldn’t see when he opened them. He couldn’t feel the ground under his feet. There was no noise, even though he knew that Elkie should’ve been there, that she should’ve been screaming for help. Maybe she’d already run back to the house. But where was the creature?

He was blind, and he was deaf. His mouth wouldn’t move when he tried to speak. The world fell out of existence around him, everything was black. He reached out, and his hand slipped through the forest ground. He was gone.

But pain still roared in his chest. It tore him open and chewed him up. He would’ve cried if his throat had complied, but there was no sound to be made. What should he have asked for? Help? Or death?

It didn’t matter. He closed his eyes again. He floated, and he let pain play her guitar on the strings of his nerves.

The fire burnt brightly in his bones and consumed everything on its way. It climbed up his legs, and Renjun knew that as soon as it reached his heart, it would be over. He was longing for it, the sweet release, he was craving it; he was urging on the fire to come and consume him wholly, finish. It hurt, and this time he did scream until his throat strained.

And then it stopped.

It was quiet when he woke up.

Sunlight fell in through the window, illuminating the yellow furniture and the vase of flowers on the bedside table. A faint beeping sounded in the background, but his mind pushed that away. Same as the bandages on his arms and the pipe stuck into his shoulder. He could just barely blink open his eyes, let alone sit up or try to move.

He knew the rooms of St. Mungo’s well. He had spent the last summer helping there a bit, while Xuxi had been training to become a healer. He recognized the dingy room, the other beds rowed along the walls and the bubbles on the ceiling, shining down on the room and providing the only source of light when the sun wasn’t shining through the window like it was then. The “Dangerous” Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites.

His mother was asleep on a chair next to his bed, an open book resting in her lap. Chenle had his head leaned against her shoulder, also sleeping. The rest of his family wasn’t here, but Renjun found that he preferred it that way.

There was only one other patient in the ward, a young woman with a thick bandage around her lower arm. She was sitting up in her bed, and she smiled at him when she saw him looking around.

“It’s almost time for breakfast,” she informed him. “I bet you’re starving.”

Actually, Renjun wasn’t much of anything. Surprised, maybe, that he was still alive. That he had somehow been transported to St. Mungo’s and gotten his injuries tended to and bandaged and was alive and able to lift his head in a hospital bed. All while he’d been trapped in a weird space between time, and convinced that he’d die.

He still offered the woman a weak smile — as far as he could manage — and tried to shift in his bed.

The rustle of movement made his mother’s head snap up. “Renjun,” she gasped, jumping from her chair — which in turn made Chenle slip from her shoulder and wake up just before his head hit the ground. “Oh, baby, you’re awake.”

He gave her another weak smile. “Hey mama.”

She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “They told me you’d wake up soon, but I didn’t know how soon …,” she said, trailing off before clearing her throat and shaking her head. “I’ll go get a healer to check up on you. Maybe I can fetch Xuxi. Chenle, could you stay here with him until I’m back?”

Chenle nodded, and she hurried out of the room.

It left an awkward silence — the woman across the room had buried her face in a book, and Renjun didn’t know what to say as Chenle stared at him with wide eyes. His expression was so lost, like a kicked puppy, or a kitten left out in a storm. Or like Chenle when he had lost his footing and didn’t know where to step next, when his brother was injured and propped up in a hospital bed, after getting mauled outside of their family home.

“Where’s Elkie?” Renjun finally broke the silence. He had to know if she was okay.

Chenle looked down at his hands. “She’s upstairs,” he said finally.

“Is she —”

“No,” Chenle shook his head. “No, no, she’s up in the tearoom with the rest of the family. She was unharmed except for a few scratches from the bushes, but I don’t know how she’s doing, like, mentally. After she had to see … that.”

Renjun closed his eyes. The pain had momentarily been stopped, probably by a small overdose of potions and spells, but he knew it would come back, it was still lingering in his bones like a numb pressure, and the memory of the intensity of it was already fading from his mind. When it came back, he would die all over again.

And Elkie had had to stand on the sidelines, her laughter dying on her lips as she had been forced to watch the creature mangle him into pieces just a few steps in front of her. Knowing that she could’ve been next.

“Renjun, do you know —” Chenle swallowed. “Do you know what attacked you?”

They’d covered werewolves in his third year of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and although the sketches in his book had been rather rough, he was sure he would still recognize a werewolf if he had one in front of him. As he’d had, just before said werewolf had ripped open his jaws to devour him whole.

He gave Chenle a small nod, and looked down at where his body was still covered in the blanket.

“You’ll be —”

“I know, Chenle,” Renjun cut him off before he could say it. “I know. But I would rather not talk about that right now.”

They didn’t say anything else until their mother came back in, closely followed by Xuxi in his lime green healer robes. It was the first time Renjun got to see him at work since he’d finished his training, and the circumstances were a bit too bad for him to handle in that moment. He opted for smiling at Xuxi, who reached out to ruffle his hair.

“Well, let’s see how these wounds are doing,” he said, procuring his wand to unwrap Renjun’s bandages — Renjun quickly averted his eyes, and so did Chenle and his mother. “Oh, and I’ve got some more of that numbing potion for you.”

“Please,” Renjun let slip immediately, but he was too desperate to feel ashamed.

He would do anything to stop the pain from taking him over like that again.

He’d been in the Dai Llewellyn Ward for over a week, now. School had started back up, and he had received a letter from the Headmistress that he would not have to worry about his studies until he was discharged from the hospital.

What that meant, he didn’t even want to think about.

He knew that Hogwarts had hosted a few werewolf students before, but it had always been a rare and a dangerous thing. The ministry had not necessarily always been okay with it, and considering that Renjun had almost finished his studies apart from his final exams, anyway — he wasn’t sure if he was to ever return to Hogwarts.

He didn’t have a lot of time to think about his future predicament while in the hospital, though.

Xuxi made sure that he was always appropriately tended to with pain potions, which numbed his mind enough to allow him to sleep through most of his days. He only woke up when Xuxi or the other healers came in several times a day to spell his bandages clean and cast a row of healing spells over the bruises that littered his body.

Most of the bandages had gotten thinner and smaller by now. They were just covering the places where the beast’s claws had dug into his skin. The largest one was at the side of his chest, thicker than his clothes and soaking through with blood at least once a day. He couldn’t feel the pain, too high on the pain potions, but he knew that the wound was still open. Xuxi had told him that, too. That, and that it would take a while for it to close up.

Renjun had never had a problem with blood, but he still averted his eyes when they removed that one.

His friends hadn’t been allowed to visit him, and he didn’t have the strength to sit up and write to them. He didn’t know if he wanted to, anyway. He couldn’t know what they would think of him, now.

He had seen little of his family, either. His mother came in every day and Xuxi was here anyway, and all of his brothers had visited at least twice. Elkie had come by once, but she’d only sat by his bedside silently until she’d started crying. The rest of them hadn’t come by. Maybe they feared what he had become. He couldn’t blame them.

It was a week until he was finally able to walk again. One foot in front of the other, his legs felt wobbly after being bedridden for so long, but he made it back and forth across the room four times before he had to sit down again.

The girl in the bed across the room gave him a big thumbs up.

They discharged her a week and a half after Renjun had arrived in the ward, and he learned that a dangerous snake she had been transporting for the ministry had bitten her. He was pretty sure she knew what had bitten him, but she never asked him about it, and she never gave him one of the pitying looks he received from everyone now.

At least they knew the reason behind the attack, now, if there even was one.

It had been a wild pack of werewolves, one that lived in the countryside, far away from civilization. They had found shelter in the hills surrounding the house in the years Renjun’s family had been gone, and had been caught off guard by them returning all of the sudden. Their youngest had snuck away from their camp a few times to spy on their sudden new neighbors, and he had just transformed and been surprised by Renjun and Elkie suddenly being in front of him.

His mother had told him that the ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had been called to the scene right after Xuxi had taken him to St. Mungo’s. Renjun could only hope that nothing bad had happened to the young werewolf who had bitten him, but he had not yet been able to muster up the energy to ask about him.

His life followed a strict cycle, now. He woke up an hour after sunrise, when a young trainee healer came to bring him breakfast, clean his bandages and let him take another few sips of the pain-numbing potion, which would knock him out for another two hours or so. His mother usually came by during her own lunch break, which was nice, because he had a hard time swallowing past the wound on his chest, and he would rather his mother see him struggle than a random healer. In the afternoons, one of the healers, sometimes Xuxi, sometimes one of his colleagues, would come to supervise him as he walked around the room and did some stretches to get the feeling back into his limbs. Some days, his father or one of his other brothers would come to check up on him. Most days, he was alone for dinner.

A few weeks ago, he would’ve done anything to be able to spend days doing nothing but lying in bed. Now, he couldn’t wait to go back to school and see his friends and his teachers and his desk full of unfinished homework.

If they would allow him to go back, that was.

There was a trial, but it wasn’t about him. He could walk for longer, now, so he followed his mother into the lift on his own feet, but he was still high off of whatever they brewed into that potion.

He had no recollection of how they had gotten to the ministry, but he recognized his mother’s office when they stepped into it so she could pull her plum-coloured robes on before they headed further downstairs. The courtroom was on the lowest level of the ministry, and Renjun had never been there, but he had seen his mother vanish there a lot.

Now, his mother led him to sit down on the visitors’ stands, before she moved on to her own seat.

Elkie was there, too, sitting a few seats away from him. She gave him a rather timid smile — much opposed to her usual enthusiasm she would’ve shown him just a few weeks ago. She looked exhausted, too, still in her work robes and with her hair untidily tied together at the back of her neck. Dark shadows circled her eyes, and she was slumping in her chair. The girl next to her was stroking her knee, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

Few other people were in the room, though. The members of the Wizengamot, headed by the Chief Warlock, and two women and a man who sat a few rows below Renjun. He couldn’t see their faces, but their backs seemed tense.

To his right, the doors he had just entered through opened again.

A young man was led into the room — though he could barely be counted as a man, Renjun considered. He was more of a boy, barely taller than Renjun, almost too thin around the midriff but chubby in the cheeks, like a teenage boy who’d grown too fast and still needed to put on the weight. His clothes were shaggy, a bit too tight around the shoulders, his hair fell into his tired eyes and his hands were covered in scars. He was flanked by two ministry workers, but they didn’t grab him, just silently led him to the chair in the middle of the room. He stayed unchained.

The trial must have begun at some point then, but Renjun’s brain was still floaty from the potion, so he didn’t have it in him to pay attention to what was happening — time passed slowly when your brain wasn’t in the moment.

He spent most of his time on the stands watching the young boy on the chair. He fiddled with his hands as he answered the questions that didn’t even reach Renjun’s brain, and his eyes kept flitting back to the three people on the stands below Renjun. Members of the pack he was from, probably, maybe even his family.

Elkie was called up to say something, likely to recount the happenings of the night Renjun had been attacked. She was shaking as she did so, but Renjun still couldn’t hear her words.

The boy in the chair was shaking, too. His eyes flitted around the room like a trapped animal, over the faces of the assembled members of the Wizengamot, over Elkie, over his family on the lower stands, until he finally met eyes with Renjun for the first time since they’d been in the room together.

He looked scared. He looked young. His scarred hands were shaking and his boyish features were blown wide, and those were the dark, round eyes Renjun had seen in the bushes, but instead of feral hunger, all he could see in them now was naked fear. Blank terror, as he clutched the armrests of his chair and stared up at Renjun.

During his few conscious moments in the hospital, which he hadn’t wanted to spend worrying about school or his friends or the rest of his family, Renjun had had a lot of time to think about his attacker.

His Defense Against the Dark Arts books in school had shown rough sketches of werewolves only in their transformed states. Vaguely humanoid wolf creatures, ready to pounce, with a mixture of saliva and blood dripping from their long fangs. Ever since the war, parts of the ministry had worked hard to ingrain werewolves into magical society, activists had tried to get the Department for Magical Creatures to stop classifying them as beasts, there had been talk about letting more magical werewolf children attend Hogwarts if they and their families so wished.

But despite all that, the books in school still defined them as monsters. As feared beasts who broke into homes and ate children from their beds, who lived rogue and away from wizarding society, and that’s where they should be kept.

This was the side that was never shown in the books. The boy in the chair was maybe even younger than Chenle, upon closer look, and he was shaking in fear as he stared up at Renjun, the person he had hurt. Werewolves were dangerous under the full moon, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t feel guilty about it once they turned human again.

A turned werewolf lost all control over their conscience, wasn’t even conscious of their actions most of the time.

So staring down at his attacker in a courtroom full of wizards and witches who thought themselves above all else because they directed the law, Renjun knew that this boy was innocent.

And when Elkie sat back down and discussion erupted along the rows of the Wizengamot as they tried to decide on a sentence, Renjun found his mother’s eyes across the room, and she smiled at him. She raised her hand.

The room fell quiet when the Chief Warlock called her up to speak, and Renjun could finally hear. “Yaxian Qiao, Member of the Wizengamot and mother of the victim. What would you like to propose?”

“I would like to propose that we ask the victim himself, before we decide on a sentence.”

A few whispers rose across the room, but the Chief Warlock silenced them with a wave of his hand. “It seems a reasonable proposal, given the gravity of the attack. We should hear what he has to say, if there is anything. Renjun Huang, if you would like to take a stand in front of the court?”

Renjun rose to his feet with a bit of difficulty. He caught the boy’s eyes again, and gave him a small smile.

Eventually, he said, setting his eyes on the Chief Warlock, “I don’t want him to go to Azkaban.” More whispers rose along the stands, but he continued, “I think I understand the gravity of what happened to me the best, and I don’t want him to go to Azkaban. I don’t want him to get hurt. It wasn’t his fault.”

He didn’t look, but he could see the people on the lower stands turn to him from his peripheral.

The Chief Warlock leaned forwards, too. “Would you elaborate on your reasoning, please, Mr. Huang?” He was an elderly man, a little podgy and with his grey hair falling to his shoulders. Renjun didn’t have a hard time imagining him agreeing with the descriptions from the books, passing cruel sentences of werewolves for things they couldn’t control.

“A werewolf loses all control under the full moon, sir,” Renjun said. “I don’t think he meant to hurt me. I don’t think he was even conscious when he did so. It’s likely that he doesn’t even remember it, so I think it would be quite unfair to hurt or punish him when it was me and my cousin who were reckless enough to go outside when I knew there was something out there.” He cleared his throat. “It’s unfair to make a comparison between an ordinary man, and a werewolf. He didn’t attack me because he wanted to, or even on his own free will. I believe he didn’t have much of a choice.”

“So, you are saying he is innocent?” the Chief Warlock asked.

“I am. I believe he is innocent, because it is proven that werewolves have no conscious control of their werewolf form. It does not, however, affect the way they act or think on every other day and night of the month. He does not deserve to be punished for something he could not control. I don’t think that would be fair.”

“Mr. Huang, I’m sorry, I’m sure you are quite shaken up, but. Werewolves are cruel beasts —”

“Are you calling me a beast, sir?” He looked the Chief Warlock hard in the eyes.

Under his gaze, he could see the man fluster a bit, sinking back into his chair. “Of course not, Mr. Huang, I —”

“Well, I think you are,” Renjun said firmly. “I’m a werewolf now, I have the bite to show for it. Do you think I’m a beast? Do you think I will go on a killing spree in this room? Because when the next full moon comes around, I will turn into a werewolf, and I will be dangerous. But that doesn’t mean I am now. Or ever will be outside of a full moon night.”

The Chief Warlock fell silent.

“I’m a werewolf,” Renjun repeated, around the lump forming in his throat at the thought. “But I’m not a beast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Kindly leave a kudos and/or a comment if you did :D
> 
> I'll see you on Wednesday ♥


	4. four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with a chapter that will take us back to Hogwarts and meet the other boys again. I hope you enjoy! :^)
> 
> Warnings: Minimal talk of scars and injuries

He wiped the raindrops off his forehead and pulled on his trunk a little harder.

Rainy days always turned the path up to the castle into a muddy mess of an obstacle course, as plenty of weekends at Hogsmeade in the British autumn weather had proven, but it was even worse on his own.

The castle was eerily quiet when he walked through the hall, sending his trunk down to the Slytherin dorms as he heaved himself up the many flights of stairs towards the Headmistress’s office.

She was waiting for him at her desk, calling him in when he knocked.

The Headmistress’s office had always been, in Renjun’s opinion, one of the most magical places of the castle. He’d been there only a few times over the past year, all for head boy duties he was not sure he had any longer, and he had always loved it there. The books stacked on the shelves along the round walls, the Sorting Hat perched on top of the shelf, the slight glow off the windows, all the moving paintings of the former Headmasters that looked down on him.

“Renjun, welcome back.” Professor Kwon smiled at him, gesturing towards the comfortable chairs in front of her desk. “Come on in. Please take a seat. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, professor,” Renjun said, sitting down on one of the chairs with care.

“Very well.” She folded her hands on top of her desk, her smile never fading. “It’s good to see you here again. I hope your recovery is going well?”

“As well as it can,” Renjun replied, trying for a smile.

“Of course, of course.” She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s a long process. We’re glad to have you back.”

“And I’m glad to be back, professor.” He did mean that, even if it sounded a bit staged coming out of his mouth. He had never been more happy to drag his aching body up those endless stairs to her office.

“I’m sure,” she said, smiling. “I must admit, Renjun, it has been a while since Hogwarts hosted its last werewolf student. We have the measures and precautions still in place, of course, but I was not yet Headmistress when the last student went here, so it will take me a bit to get used to the procedures. Of course that pales in comparison to what you have to get used to, now, but lucky for the both of us it will only be a few more weeks until you graduate. And I can promise you that everything will go just fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

He thought he did indeed have a lot to worry about, but he gave her a small smile, nonetheless.

“As for the weeks of school you missed,” she continued. “We will excuse you from all homework that was given during the time you were absent, and I would advise to check with your friends to catch up on the material. Of course, your teachers will also be more than willing to help you with anything you need.”

He looked down at his hands, and she seemed to pick up on his thoughts.

When he looks back up, her smile has softened up considerably. “Everyone missed you a lot, Renjun.”

As it turned out, the castle had been quiet upon his arrival because the entire school had been at the final Quidditch match of the season — Slytherin versus Ravenclaw.

Renjun had trudged down into the dungeons to unpack his trunk and to find the dorms completely empty. Not a single soul had been to be seen, not even the giant squid when he’d looked out of the window in the common room.

He had unpacked his trunk with a few flicks of his wand, and had dressed in his uniform robes again for the first time in weeks — carefully avoiding the mirror when he’d pulled his shirt over his head. He’d almost missed the feeling of the heavy robes on his skin, and the familiar movements of tying his tie by hand.

His body was — it was getting better. Most of the claw-marks had healed, but they would leave scars that would take a long time to fade. One ran down the side of his face, like a fresh red curve from the top of his cheekbone to the edge of his jaw. The bite on the side of his chest had ceased bleeding, finally, but it had yet to heal.

He spread out in his bed — he’d missed that, too. He’d missed everything about Hogwarts.

And maybe he had dozed off a little, finally getting to lie in a bed much more comfortable than the thin mattress of the hospital bed, because by the time he opened his eyes again, there were voices in the halls right outside the door.

It opened not a moment later, and Donghyuck froze in the doorway immediately. Hyunjin peeked over his shoulder.

Slowly, Renjun sat up in his bed.

There was a beat of silence — Donghyuck stared at him, his mouth fell open as if he wanted to say something, but he closed it again and took a few long strides into the room. Renjun got to his feet to meet him, but before he could say anything or even reach out his hands, Donghyuck had reached him and pulled him hard against his chest.

He squeezed him a bit too tight, and it ached, but Renjun threw his arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

“Oh, you absolute dickhead,” he huffed, pushing Renjun away from the hug to grab his face and squish his cheeks between his palms. “Hi. I missed you. But also, what the fuck did you think you were doing?”

The laugh that bubbled up in Renjun was almost hysterical, almost drove tears to his eyes, but he blinked them back before they could rise. “I missed you, too,” he whispered hoarsely, just as Donghyuck pulled him back for another tight hug. This time, Renjun couldn’t bear it for long, though. “Uh, ouch, Donghyuck, hold on —”

Donghyuck flinched away from him immediately. “Holy fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course.” Renjun gave him a smile, but he still appreciated the lack of pressure on his wound.

Hyunjin, Jinyoung and Daehwi had entered the room behind Donghyuck, and they all gave him awkward smiles from where they’d walked over to their own beds — Renjun had no idea if they knew what had happened. He didn’t know if his friends knew the specifics, either. They kept secrets well in the Slytherin dorms, but Renjun wasn’t sure how much he wanted even his own roommates to know about this specific one.

The air was awkward for a little while, until Donghyuck grabbed Renjun by the wrist, a lot gentler than he had been before, and his eyes lit up as he pushed out a laugh. “Merlin, you almost made me forget that we’ve got to celebrate, you threw me so off guard.” He grinned at Renjun. “We won the Quidditch cup! We just came here to change before we go celebrate with the others.” His hand tightened around Renjun’s wrist a little. “Are you up for a party, or what?”

No way Renjun could say no to that.

The common room was so filled with life it was a miracle — and thanks to the charmed walls — that they hadn’t heard the party all the way back in their dorms, which were at the very end of the narrow hallway.

People of all houses had thrown themselves all over the far too few pieces of furniture, Slytherin’s team captain, the other Hyunjin, was hoisted up on Hyejoo’s back, holding their trophy out for everyone to see. A gaggle of fifth years stood under her, cheered her on and fought each other for the handfuls of Bertie Bott’s beans she fished out of the cup and threw into the small crowd. A boy gagged upon popping one into his mouth, and she laughed loudly.

Donghyuck kept his hand around Renjun’s wrist and dragged him towards the center of the room. “Pretty sure Jaemin is here somewhere. Probably sulking, though, because his sorry ass _lost.”_

Renjun smiled to himself. For someone who had never played Quidditch, Donghyuck was awfully invested in it.

Wading through the small crowds that filled their common room, Renjun dodged two charmed paper planes that passed over their heads, and greeted a few of the prefects that were scattered across the room, all growing rosy-cheeked when they realized that the head boy had seen them not doing anything to keep the party calm. One sixth year prefect was even handing out cups of butterbeer, and he let out a small screech when he caught Renjun’s eye. Renjun only smiled, and gave him a thumbs up. They could afford to celebrate for a night.

They found Jeno and Jaemin in the middle of the crowd — Jaemin sat with the back to them, still in his blue Quidditch uniform, and he and Jeno were engaged in conversation with a Hufflepuff girl. They all laughed at something Jeno said, and Renjun felt his face grow warm at the sound of — well. Donghyuck nudged his good side and grinned.

It was Jeno who spotted Renjun first. He turned his head away from the conversation, and Renjun could tell the exact moment that he caught sight of him. When his breath seemed to hitch and his eyes went wide.

Not a moment later he was on his feet, flailing his arms. “Renjun?” he gasped, and crossed the few feet between them with two long steps, grasping Renjun by the shoulders as if he wanted to shake him. He didn’t, immediately mindful of his injuries, but he did wrap two gentle arms around him. “Oh man, you’re back!”

“I am.” Renjun reached up to pat his back. “Hi Jeno.”

“Merlin, you really gotta take care of yourself better,” Jeno laughed. “Don’t scare us like that again.”

Renjun answered with a mild smile, the cogs in his brain turning just right to remind him that his friends might not know what had even happened to him, exactly. Jeno stepped out of his line of vision, and judging from the sounds he did so to go bother Donghyuck, but Renjun didn’t have the time to look at what they were doing.

Jaemin had gotten up from his seat as soon as he had heard Renjun’s name, probably, but he was standing frozen in place much like Donghyuck had done earlier, his eyes fixed on Renjun’s face, silent.

They stared at each other for a moment — Renjun could feel the tension crackling up his spine.

But then a smile broke out on Jaemin’s face, one of his brightest ones, that almost threatened to split his face in half and made his eyes spark up, and Renjun was all too happy to return it. Jaemin crossed the distance between them, and his arms were warm when he wrapped them around Renjun — firmer than Jeno had done, but not like he wanted to squeeze him dry like Donghyuck. And despite the soreness of his chest, Renjun let himself sink into it.

“You said a week,” was the first thing Jaemin said to him, and Renjun lifted his head to see him pouting.

He frowned and asked, “What?”

“You said ‘I’ll see you in a week’,” Jaemin elaborated, his pout drawing tighter. He jabbed a finger into Renjun’s skin above his collarbone, far enough from his wound to not hurt. “Now it’s almost been like three.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jaemin,” Donghyuck hissed, but Renjun only laughed.

He reached up to flick Jaemin on the forehead, and said, “I’m sorry, you big baby.” And only after a moment, Jaemin returned his smile. “I promise you’ll see a lot of me in the next few days, because I need to get caught up on everything you did in class while I was gone. You’ll be sick of me in, like, a day’s time.”

Jaemin laughed. “Never.” Renjun didn’t realize he still had his arms around him until he took them away.

Renjun was just about to say something else, when Hyunjin spotted him from where she was still holding the trophy and being carried around by Hyejoo, and hollered in his direction.

“Hey, look at that, lads! We got our head boy back!”

He was ripped away from his friends and thrust up on one of the tables next to Hyunjin. She pressed the trophy into his hands and gave him a big smile. “Welcome home,” she breathed, before she raised his hand over his head and repeated it, louder for everyone to hear. “Long lost and yet returned. Come on, come on, have something to drink.”

He ended up stumbling back to his friends with a glass of firewhiskey that he wasn’t sure he was supposed to mix with the pain potions he was still taking, but he drank it anyway. Donghyuck threw an arm around his shoulder and squeezed him, a lot gentler this time around. Renjun looked back to smile at all of them.

Only at Hogwarts would he ever feel this welcome.

It was the next day after breakfast that he made his way up the stairs again. The weather had improved a lot since the day before, and the sun was shining onto the stairs through the tall windows as he climbed up to the third floor.

Mark’s office was very nice, considering that he was only a trainee teacher. Renjun’s feet found their way towards the mahogany door with ease, having gone there many a time over the past school year. Whenever he’d needed a bit of comfort or time away from everything, Renjun had always turned to Mark first, even when he had still gone to school with them. They’d been friends since before Hogwarts, having met as small children because their parents were friends, too, and Mark’s old dorm in the Gryffindor towers had been Renjun’s sanctuary as much as his office was now.

He knocked, and a moment later, he could hear shuffling on the other side of the door. “One moment!” Mark called.

Steps approached, finally, after a minute of what was likely Mark trying to tidy up the space. Normally, Renjun would’ve just entered, because Mark couldn’t hide from him, but he didn’t want to catch him too off guard.

“Professor, I’m so sorry, I was —” Mark opened the door, words dying in his throat and his eyes going wide. “Renjun?”

Renjun smiled softly. “Hi, Markie.”

“Oh, my god.” Mark seemed to blank for a moment before he waved Renjun inside rather frantically. “Come in, oh. You’re here. Come in! Would you like some tea? My mum sent a new packet of biscuits just today, if you want any …”

“That would be lovely.” Renjun sent him another smile as he sat down on one of the cozy chairs.

Mark had put a lot of effort into decorating his office — a knack for interior design had been the last thing Renjun would have expected of him, but here they were. With books stacked in neat disarray on his sweet little shelves, a candle holder on the mantle of the fireplace, a little tea set on a miniature table by the door, a picture of his mum on the desk, and a small group of cozy chairs to curl up in the corner — Renjun’s favourite corner in the entire castle, maybe.

The peaceful picture was only disrupted by Mark stumbling clumsily back and forth as he poured them some tea.

“So,” he said, setting their cups and a plate full of biscuits on the table, and taking the seat opposite of Renjun.

“Thank you,” Renjun said, before he took a sip of his tea. He had spent enough of his rare free afternoons here for Mark to know exactly how he liked his tea. “So,” he repeated as he set his cup back down.

“You’re back.” Mark’s voice suddenly sounded hoarse, and when Renjun looked up at his face, he found his eyes to be strangely wet, almost teary. Mark had missed him. Mark had been worried about him — they all had been, he knew, but the thought alone left a burning hole in his chest that he promptly tried to stuff with a biscuit. “Are you okay?”

Renjun smiled around the crumbs in his mouth, even though he felt like crying. “For now, I’m trying to be.”

Mark nodded, taking a sip of his own tea. “It was weird without you here,” he said, and didn’t seem to see Renjun lowering his head. “No one told us that something had happened, we were all so confused when you weren’t on the train, and then you didn’t come to school at all. Professor Kwon told us not to worry, but, like, of course we did, anyway. I tried to dig, got caught, and then they finally told us that — that something had happened to you.”

Donghyuck had already told him that they hadn’t originally known last night, but it still hurt like a punch to the lungs every time. But Renjun was used to the pain, now — she was still his friend, she lived inside his bones, waiting to be awakened, and she would for the rest of his life. There was no cure for lycanthropy. He’d have to live with it.

So he gave Mark a small smile and said, “I’m sorry that I worried you all.”

Mark shook his head. “Nothing to apologize for, it’s not your fault,” he said, taking a biscuit for himself. “Not like anyone could’ve predicted something like that happening.”

“Mark, do you —” Renjun cleared his throat. “Do any of you know what happened? To me.”

After a moment of hesitation, Mark shook his head. He chewed and swallowed his biscuit before he said, “No, uh. Well, I mean, they would barely tell us that anything happened at all, you know? Let alone let us know any details when we finally got it out of them. Are you — I mean, do you want to talk about it?”

Did he? Did he want them all to know what had happened to him, and what it had made of him? He would have to tell them eventually, he supposed, or they would find out on their own, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for that.

But the fear of it drilled deeply into him. What kind of coward was he? He had stood up for the boy who had attacked him just a week before. He had looked the Chief Warlock into the eyes and stated in front of the entire Wizengamot that he was not a beast, but now here he was. Cowering at the thought of telling his best friends what he had become, like it was shameful. Like they would hate him, and it would be his fault. He felt like it would. What a hypocrite.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, and after a minute had passed, Mark said, “You don’t have to. It’s okay.”

Renjun stayed silent for a while longer, staring intently at his cooling cup of tea. To fill the silence, Mark started talking about how the last two weeks back at school had been for him — he had started teaching a few lessons alongside Professor Moon, finally, but most of his work was still grading essays that his mentor was too lazy to.

Mark had always had a hand for essays, Renjun knew. He felt almost bad for Professor Moon’s poor students.

“It’s a bit depressing being in the dungeons all day, I have to admit, you know, I’m kinda more used to the towers. Don’t know how you guys do it, living down there, and I mean, I also don’t really get why we _have_ to teach Potions down there. Professor Moon says it’s because the ingredients are all there, but it’s not like we couldn’t just —”

“I’m a werewolf,” Renjun suddenly burst out. Immediately, he felt horrible for interrupting so rudely. “I’m sorry.”

He had indeed been listening to Mark’s rambles, but the thought of telling him had also been brewing at the back of his mind, for too long to keep it in any longer. It had burst out before he could’ve tried to stop it.

Mark seemed little offended, just stared at him with wide eyes. “You’re a — um —”

“I’m a werewolf,” Renjun repeated, quieter this time. “The attack. It was on, uh, full moon. I was bitten by a werewolf.”

“Oh,” Mark breathed, blinking at him slowly. The biscuit he had been about to bring to his mouth sat between his fingers, a thin sheet of crumbs building around the tip of his finger. “Oh. _Oh._ Oh Renjun, I’m so —”

“It’s okay,” Renjun blurted, before Mark could get all sentimental on him. “It’s all right. I’m dealing with it.”

He was, kind of. He’d planned to walk over to the hospital wing after visiting Mark. Professor Kwon had told him that the nurses would know all about the potions he had to take to keep the wolf in check during the full moon, and that they had already been informed about his predicament and would do their best to help him. He was dealing with it.

Mark just stared at him, his eyes larger than his face, and he looked like he was about to cry again.

“It’s okay, Mark, really.” Renjun pushed out a small laugh. “I’ll be fine. There are so many things nowadays that make this condition manageable” — the exact words of reassurance that his mother had preached to him every day in the hospital — “and things will be fine. I will lead a nearly normal life.”

Mark was silent for another moment, before he quietly asked, “Will you be able to, you know, … work?”

It was another punch to his lungs. Renjun lowered his eyes. “I will find a spot,” he said around the knot on this throat. Not a spot at Hogwarts, certainly, because no parent would be okay with having a werewolf teach their children. Not a spot at the ministry, either, because all the jobs he would qualify for without his lycanthropy would be out of reach for someone who has it. Maybe he would end up in the family shop, after all.

“Have you told the others?” Mark asked after another few minutes of silence.

“Not yet,” Renjun replied tensely. “I will soon, though.”

He wished it wouldn’t have to be like this — this could have been a normal Sunday morning, spent with one of his oldest friends over tea and biscuits, and in the afternoon he would have gone to laze around in the grass outside with his other friends, or maybe stick his nose into the required reading for one of his courses.

Instead, Mark looked at him with this look of utter pity in his eyes, one that Renjun had seen in the eyes of so many people who had looked at him these past few weeks. And the air between them grew more awkward by the second, because Mark was naturally awkward and normally didn’t know what to say when the conversation lapsed, but especially not when it lapsed over a topic like this. Renjun didn’t know what to say, either.

So after another small while of eating biscuits in silence, Renjun got up after he’d finished his tea.

“I’d better head back down,” he told Mark, straightening out his robes. “I still have a lot of work to catch up on.”

“Of course,” Mark said, forcing a smile and getting up himself to see Renjun out the door. Only when Renjun had almost reached the stairs did Mark call out for him a last time, “Renjun?”

He turned back around to find Mark smiling; a real, genuine smile, and the pity had been washed from his eyes.

“I love you,” Mark said, quietly, but it rang in the corridor. “We all do. I hope you know that this won’t change that.”

“I love you, too,” Renjun replied, hating how breathless he sounded. It was the first person outside of his family who had assured him that their feelings towards him hadn’t changed because of this. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself on his way down the stairs. _I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave a kudos and/or a comment if you did! :^D
> 
> You can find me on Twitter as @kitthae


	5. five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waah here we go again! Another special update because today is actually *my* birthday. I'm turning 19 today! Wooo!!
> 
> Warnings: BIG WARNING for body horror (in relation to werewolf transformations) and injuries!! Please be careful!!!

He _tap tap tapped_ his wand in rapid succession; he spoke the words loud and clear — and again, nothing happened.

Renjun sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the desk behind him. It had gotten hot in the room, he had already stripped himself of his robe, loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, but it had done nothing to alleviate the heat building steadily under his skin. Like he was running a fever, but he knew that wasn’t it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jaemin asked, sitting down on a chair in front of him. “You look kind of pale.”

Renjun took a deep breath and steadied himself. His mouth was half ready to snap at Jaemin, but he knew that wouldn’t have been fair. It wasn’t Jaemin’s fault that he had no idea what was going on. It was Renjun’s entirely.

Almost an entire week after his conversation with Mark, and he still had told none of their other friends, even though he’d said that he would. And he had planned to; really, he had. But there was so much work to do, so many chapters to read, so many notes to copy. And then Jaemin had offered to catch him up on the spells they had been practicing in Charms, and what kind of friend would he be if he wasted the few moments of alone time that he got with Jaemin and brought the mood down by mentioning the rather depressing topic of his —

He was procrastinating it. The fear of what they’d say had settled deep within him, and he was deliberately pushing it back. Two afternoons in a row he had spent sealed away in an empty classroom with Jaemin, but instead of talking about the very important elephant in the room, Renjun had spent the majority of the time watching Jaemin’s unfairly handsome face.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he told Jaemin, picking his wand back up.

He was not fine. The full moon would climb the sky that night and already, he could feel its pull. He had been drinking a cup of Wolfsbane Potion every day for the past week, and yet, it did nothing to quell the hunger tearing at his insides.

He hadn’t expected it to be this bad. At least not in the middle of the day, when the sun was still up and he should still have a few hours of time before he would have to submit his sanity to the pain slumbering in his bones. But the moon pulled at him by a hook at the back of his navel, it made him run hot, his breath come out short.

He tried the spell again, and it worked. The loose threads of the cloak sewed themselves back together seamlessly, but he stumbled forward and had to catch himself on one of the desks.

“Renjun, I think you should go lie down or something. You don’t seem fine.” Jaemin was right next to him, now, and one of his hands ghosted over Renjun’s back. Renjun felt dizzy. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

He had not, if he was being honest, but he knew that wasn’t the problem either. His last few nights had been spent copying Donghyuck’s notes and trying to cram everything two weeks of classes had covered into a couple nights, because their exams were right around the corner, and he had no intention of failing them and being stuck another year.

But he wasn’t tired — rather, he felt wired, always on his feet, burning up and looking for more.

It was an insatiable hunger, it could not be quelled by the copious amounts of food he stuffed himself with at every meal, to the point where Donghyuck had asked him if he was all right when he’d reached for his third serving. The hole it had burnt into his chest was bottomless, and he felt empty. He was still trying to stuff it.

“I still have an essay to do for Herbology,” he told Jaemin, pushing himself back up. “And a bunch of notes to copy. Maybe I should get started on that, and then I’ll try to get some sleep before —” He cut himself off sharply.

Jaemin sent him a curious glance, but he didn’t ask. “Look, you’ll do just fine on your exams. They can’t fail someone who works so hard.” Renjun found himself smiling abashedly as Jaemin went to fetch their bags from where they had dropped them at the front of the classroom. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

Renjun kept his mouth shut. It was the threat of the exams that made him push himself, but also something else.

Jaemin walked him down to the Slytherin dungeons — he said it was because he had lent a book to Donghyuck that he needed back, but Renjun had the feeling that he just wanted to make sure Renjun wouldn’t collapse on his way.

He squeezed his shoulder when they parted ways in front of the common room. Renjun decided not to comment that he’d forgotten his book. He smiled to himself.

When they’d met, Jaemin had been a wide-eyed boy on the way to his first year at Hogwarts. All the other compartments had been full already, he’d told them, and they had looked to be around his own age.

“What houses do you think you’ll end up in?” Mark, who had already been in his second year by then, had asked.

Renjun had followed him into a compartment like an embarrassing small child clinging to his older brother’s shirt. Mark had been the only person at Hogwarts that he would already know, and he’d felt like he had nowhere else to turn. Over the first hour of the travel, Donghyuck and Jeno, and finally Jaemin, had joined them for lack of other space.

“Slytherin, of course,” Donghyuck had said, slapping his chest. “Everyone in my family was in Slytherin.”

Jeno had mumbled something about Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, because his mother had been a Hufflepuff, but he’d always thought that Gryffindor was so much cooler. Mark had grinned at him, and Renjun had thrown a wistful glance to the red and gold tie Mark had been wearing, and had hoped, wished, prayed to end up in the same house as him.

“I don’t know about any of this,” Jaemin had admitted shyly, shrugging when they’d all turned to look at him. “My parents are … muggles, is that the word? They didn’t know anything about magic until now.”

Renjun had nodded at him when Jaemin had caught his eye, and they’d smiled at each other.

In the end, Renjun hadn’t ended up in the same house as Mark. He’d been called up first out of all the boys he’d met on the train, and after a few seconds of sitting on his head, the Sorting Hat had called out _SLYTHERIN!_ and he had trudged over to the green and silver table with a heavy heart. Through the crowd, he hadn’t even been able to spot Mark.

At least, Donghyuck had joined him only a few minutes later, as predicted, and had tucked himself against his side. A friendship had blossomed that night that would be meant to last for years.

They’d watched as the cheers had welcomed Jeno at the Hufflepuff table, and as the Hat, upon barely touching the crown of Jaemin’s head, had yelled _RAVENCLAW!_ and Jaemin had vanished in a cloud of blue and bronze.

And just the next day, Renjun had met Jaemin again in their shared Herbology class, and had been tasked with guiding Jaemin’s clumsy hands through the handling of some pungous onions. They’d been paired up for the rest of the year, and Renjun had quickly found himself looking forward to Herbology lessons.

Jaemin had stayed one of his best friends, along with the others, throughout all of their time at Hogwarts. It was still hard to make out an exact point at which Renjun had looked at him and felt more than that — maybe there was none. It had always been just a stupid crush, of course, one that he knew Jaemin didn’t reciprocate. That was easy to figure out, with the amount of dates Jaemin went on, without ever so much as glancing at Renjun twice.

He wasn’t bitter about it. Jaemin could do whatever he wanted. Renjun would never be mad at him for it.

But he was thinking about it, as he lay on the thin mattress in the middle of the Shrieking Shack, waiting for the moon to rise. Irene had walked him through the underground path and had made him drink more Wolfsbane Potion. Now he was lying down, one foot off the mattress and digging into the wooden floor, waiting.

The moon was pulling on him harder, now, even though the potion was supposed to keep its effects milder. If this was a full moon with Wolfsbane, he never wanted to live a single one without it.

The tugging at his stomach he’d felt all day had become stronger, painful, like his insides were tearing up. His bones had begun to ache, like a very fast growth spurt, and before he knew it, he was writhing, trying to shake it off. He didn’t want his bones to grow; he didn’t want to _think_ about them growing into what he had seen in the bushes back then.

Half animal. The blood in his veins was no longer human, _he_ was no longer human.

He threw himself down against the mattress, trying to feel the dull pain of his body bruising as it met the hard floor. He gripped onto the memory of Jaemin’s face. Anything to keep himself sane.

Silvery light crossed in through the window, and he felt a tear slip. The pressure in his chest was a wild mixture of naked human terror and something feral, something raw. A sick part of him that had been anticipating this.

He had the mind to rip off his shirt and push off his pants, throw them into a corner of the room, before it gripped him.

Pain had been sleeping in him ever since that night. It had never been gone, not even the pain potions had been able to make it leave, it had just rested deep within him, waiting to strike again. Waiting for this.

He collapsed to his knees, forward onto the mattress, bracing himself on his arms and curling his head down to his chest. More tears dripped onto the fabric below him, and he couldn’t hold back a loud wail.

It was unbearable. Worse than the attack itself, perhaps, because at least he had fallen unconscious very early into that, and the pain had been so all-consuming that he had felt little of it, altogether. In that moment, the beast awakened and kept him conscious, and he felt all of it. Every single bone in his body as it broke and shifted, grew and stitched itself back together in new patterns, forming a new shape. His head felt like it had bust open, and every thought slipped from him sooner than he could think it. Pain gripped him fully, and rendered him useless.

And he cried, _cried_ so loud that he was sure the people in the castle could hear him. The sounds came from a raw part inside of him, and every single one he let out sounded less human than the last one.

The tears stopped just as he lost his sense of self.

And then he was gone.

He was unconscious for the largest portions of the night.

Every now and then, a bit of consciousness faded in, a picture reached his brain when the wolf hurt itself enough to awaken him. It was trying to flee the Shack, of course, but the walls and windows and doors had been magically reinforced. It threw itself against the walls, tried to punch open the windows. It scratched and bit at its own body.

Renjun’s body. It scratched and bit at Renjun’s body. _Renjun_ scratched and bit at his own body.

He felt pain, in those rare conscious moments, unadulterated pain and the feral panic of a trapped animal in his chest. The wolf took over again and pushed him back down. He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t care about that.

The last time a picture reached his brain, and he felt the panic of the wolf course through his brain, he could see a hint of the sunrise on the horizon through the window. The moon would go down soon.

When it did, Renjun woke up on the floor. He was somewhere on the lower level of the Shack. He could see the stairs through a gap in the door, but he couldn’t move to turn and inspect where he was. His body ached all over, he was sure it was littered in bruises and other wounds. He could barely even move his eyes.

He let his eyes slip shut again, and was out like a light within the minute.

The next time he woke up, the sun was falling in through the window, and he pushed himself to his feet despite his aching bones, and the way upstairs to where he had discarded his clothes. He pulled them back on not a minute too early, because as soon as he exited the room, bracing himself on the wall, Irene crawled out of the trapdoor downstairs.

She and her team in the hospital wing had been responsible for him this past week, fixing him his potions and taking him over to the Shack and now, apparently, bringing him back and fixing him up.

“You’re awake,” was her greeting, as she looked him up and down to get a rough picture of his injuries.

He let her lead him back through the underground path to the castle, and she lent him her arm to lean on as he hobbled, the ache in his legs too much to bear. Everything was too much to bear.

The castle was thankfully still mostly empty, as most people were having breakfast. Irene still led him through secret paths up to the hospital wing to minimize the risk of running into people even more.

The rest of her team were already waiting for them. Irene led him to one of the beds and they propped him up on it before she and Madam Kang both drew their wands, and started casting healing spells over him. They stung, but it was nothing compared to what he had gone through last night, so he barely flinched. Wendy came hurrying back into the room with a pain potion, and another cup of Wolfsbane Potion.

“The effects will be better next time if you keep drinking it every day,” she insisted, making him drink it all.

It was disgusting, and with his stomach already wildly upset from last night, he almost retched in front of their feet.

He didn’t, kept himself in check and endured as Irene tried to fade his bruises and stitch up his cuts with her wand, while Seulgi sprinkled a different potion on his ankles and knees to keep his joints from bearing any lasting damage.

He broke his wrist, which had probably been one of his rare conscious moments when the wolf had tried to break one of the windows. Fixing it back up hurt almost at much as breaking it must have, and he hissed through his teeth.

He was discharged not long after, and found that he could walk quite well on his own — the ache in his bones had not faded completely, but he was in much less acute pain. It was duller, like when you pressed into a bruise that had already begun to fade. Except his entire body felt like it. He even still made it to breakfast on time.

When he sat down at the Slytherin table, though, Donghyuck’s spoon clanged against the table.

Renjun looked up to find him staring at him, wide eyed.

Of course, the bruises hadn’t faded and though his cuts had stopped bleeding, they still left red streaks across his skin, and he probably looked like he had been attacked again — and he’d been missing from the dorm the entire night.

The strange sensation of the bottomless pit in his chest returned to him, and all he could offer Donghyuck was a tired smile and a muttered, “Good morning,” before he reached for a bowl of porridge.

Donghyuck stared, and swallowed hard. “Where … where were you last night?”

Renjun pressed his lips shut, his fingers twisted into a weird fist under the table. “I had to go to the hospital wing,” he lied. “One of my wounds was hurting, so I went to get it checked out and they kept me there overnight.”

Donghyuck squinted his eyes at him, looking down to where Renjun’s arms were littered in cuts and bruises, to the red scar that ran down his cheek, the ring of bruises around his wrist, where it had broken. The many more cuts and bruises and scars he carefully hid under his clothes. But he said nothing else, just stabbed his fork into his eggs.

There was one more full moon he would have to live through at Hogwarts, and then he would have to find a new safe place to turn in, and he would have to tend his own wounds and live through it all alone.

The hole in his chest gaped a little wider. He tried to fill it with breakfast, and fought back his tears.

“I’m not stupid,” Donghyuck told him that night, after their last classes had ended and they’d sprawled on their beds.

“Only a little,” Renjun replied carelessly, not bothering to hold back his grin. His mind was off of what happened last night for the first time, despite the pain still lingering. He had a chapter for Transfiguration to read until the next day, and he was debating if he should start that now or if it would be enough if he started after dinner.

But Donghyuck catapulted his mind straight back to it — “I know you’re a werewolf.”

Renjun froze on his bed. His grin dropped out of his face within a second. He stared at the ceiling in silence, didn’t move a muscle even though his heart was beating erratically in his chest, and his lungs felt constricted.

“It wasn’t hard to figure out. Last night was a full moon, and you disappeared and came back the next morning covered in bruises and cuts. You were attacked about a month ago, your entire body is covered in scars from it, and you still have a bandage at your side. That’s where it bit you, right? We learned in like third year that werewolf bites don’t heal easily. I calculated back and the night you were attacked was also a full moon.” He paused. “You’re a werewolf.”

Renjun felt like crying — he realized that that was what the hole in his chest was. Tears threatening to spill. He stayed very still on his bed, stared at the ceiling and said nothing.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Donghyuck asked, and he sounded so wounded. “We could’ve helped you.”

Renjun didn’t take his eyes off the ceiling. His throat knotted up again, and he couldn’t find the words to fill the heavy silence that settled in the room. Their other roommates were still out, and Donghyuck’s gaze burnt on him.

“I was scared,” he said eventually. His voice came out hoarse. “I still am.”

“Scared of what?” Donghyuck asked, and when Renjun finally turned to him, he found him frowning.

He shrugged. Every movement still ached. “Of pretty much everything.” It was hard to speak around the hole in his chest. “Not so easy to go up to the people you’ve known all your life and tell them you’re a monster now.”

Donghyuck fell quiet at that, his eyes widening. Renjun turned back to the ceiling and closed his eyes.

“You’re not a monster.” Donghyuck had sat up on the edge of his bed when Renjun looked at him again. “What the fuck, Renjun, you can’t tell me that you honestly think that. You’ve never been prejudiced against any kind of magical creatures, why now? You’re still you, right? You didn’t suddenly turn into someone else.”

“I know,” Renjun said, and his voice sounded so hoarse. His throat felt tight. “I know, and I defended the boy who attacked me in court for these exact reasons. But I still can’t look at myself in the mirror. I lived through that last night and I look at these injuries that I did to myself, and, I don’t know. I feel like a monster. I thought you guys would hate me.”

“None of us would ever hate you, Renjun, come on.” Donghyuck laughed a little, but it wasn’t mean. “We missed you so much. We were worried about you, man. We wouldn’t worry so much about you just to turn around and hate you.”

Renjun remained silent, but he felt the same warmth he felt when Mark had told him that he loved him.

“I’m much happier knowing you’re a werewolf than I was knowing you were hiding something from me.” They both laughed a little, and Renjun didn’t flinch when Donghyuck snuck over to his bed a few minutes later.

His arms ached, but he still wrapped them around Donghyuck. Because he was still himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed, it would make me really happy!
> 
> See you tomorrow! ♥


	6. six.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Welcome back, this time with a chapter that will bring about some changes!
> 
> Warnings: Injuries

Learning the last few new spells was considerably easier without the moon tugging at him, and Jaemin had told him how much better he was doing, too. They wrapped the rest of the spells up within one afternoon.

Jaemin was talking about which subjects he would have to study the most for, considering their exams were only a few weeks away, now, and all the seventh years were worried sick about passing them. He had trouble with History of Magic, apparently, even though it was his favourite subject, because the topic for the exam was hard.

Renjun had gotten rid of History of Magic as soon as he could, so he couldn’t relate, but he listened, anyway. The sound of Jaemin’s voice was so soothing, always had been, and he found himself letting a smile slip onto his face. Jaemin stood with the back to him, packing the things they had used to practice back into his bag. Renjun watched him, and he listened, but his mind was also far away: on the conversation he’d had with Donghyuck, and over a week before with Mark, and that he would have to tell Jeno and Jaemin at some point, before they worried themselves sick.

Donghyuck had told him that Jeno had been concerned, and that he himself had been pissed off when he’d figured out that Renjun had been hiding something from him. About Jaemin, though, he hadn’t known.

But at some point, Jaemin would suspect something, so Renjun figured it would be best if he told him himself.

“Jaemin,” he started when Jaemin finished a story about Professor Jung being too overzealous with their exam topics yet again, trying for a smile when Jaemin turned around to him. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Jaemin, turning around to him, raised his eyebrows and nodded.

It was even harder to get it out with expectant eyes on him and having prefaced the conversation. The words got stuck in his throat and he had to hide his shaking hands behind his back.

“Is it that bad?” Jaemin asked when a moment of silence had passed without Renjun saying anything.

“No.” Renjun laughed nervously. “Yes. Maybe, kind of. I mean, so far I have gotten no negative reactions, but only two people know so that could change any second because — I got bitten by a werewolf.”

Jaemin looked as if he’d been struck into the lungs — his eyes seemed close to tumbling out of his skull, the healthy tint of rose draining out of his cheeks. He blinked at Renjun for a few minutes, his lips hanging open an inch but no words coming out, before he seemed to catch himself and cleared his throat. “Oh, my — I mean, wow. Merlin, is that what ...?” he trailed off.

Renjun swallowed, and nodded. “Yes, that’s — that’s what happened.”

Jaemin was silent for another beat, as his eyes raked up and down Renjun’s body. They caught on the scar on his cheek, the still fading bruises on his wrist. Two fresh cuts from the other night on his collarbones. His clothes covered the rest — but he was sure that Jaemin suspected it all to be there, anyway.

“Oh, Renjun,” he breathed out eventually, uncharacteristically soft. This constituted a change of attitude, Renjun supposed. “I’m so sorry. I — Merlin. Can I give you a hug?”

Renjun let out an almost hysterical laugh, it almost sounded more like a sob. “Sure.”

Jaemin was gentle with the hug — but he didn’t hold him like he was about to break, and the relief that washed over Renjun made him want to cry even more. Jaemin didn’t hate him. He still hugged him the same, just mindful of his pain.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said, and Renjun rested his head against his shoulder to hide the tears finally welling up in his eyes. Only Jaemin would know exactly what to say — _I’m sorry that happened to you,_ not _I’m sorry you are like that now._ Not _I pity you for being a monster._ He knew to make that clear, and he hugged him the same.

“It’s okay,” Renjun tried to reassure him, but he didn’t move an inch away from the embrace.

“I’m sure it is.” Jaemin did move away a bit, but only far enough to look at Renjun and smile at him. His arms stayed around him. “Everything you do turns out just fine. I know you’ll be okay.”

This time, Jaemin could see the tears forming in his eyes, and he shook his head. “Don’t cry,” he cooed.

Renjun didn’t. He didn’t let the tears spill past his lashes. “I won’t,” he said, surprising himself with how steady his voice was. “You’re the first person to tell me that. That I’ll be okay. I mean, I knew that I would and Mark and Donghyuck weren’t mean about it, of course, and I’m sure they meant to say that, too, but it’s … it’s still nice, hearing it, I suppose.”

Jaemin pulled him a little closer again, and ran a hand down Renjun’s back. “Verbal reassurance is always nice,” he said. “I’m sure this is all very hard. I wouldn’t want to be in your position, if I’m being honest. But if anyone can do this, it’s you. I’ve never seen someone brave the obstacles life throws at them the way you do.”

“Thank you,” Renjun said, suddenly hoarse. It felt good — getting it out and hearing Jaemin’s words.

Of course, he knew he would be fine. The doctors had told him so repeatedly, lycanthropy was very much manageable with modern medicine, and while he would still have to suffer once a month, it wouldn’t be half as bad as the way werewolves had had to suffer just twenty years ago. How wild werewolves still suffered. The scared face of the boy from the courtroom flashed before Renjun’s eyes again. His scarred hands clutching the edges of his chair. He’d been so young. Renjun didn’t want to imagine what he would’ve done the other night, if he had been free and the effects of the Wolfsbane Potion hadn’t weakened his wolf. He was so glad to have defended the boy.

“Do you wanna come with me to the hospital wing?” he asked, finally stepping away from their hug. It had been making his head spin, and his heart could only take so much. “I gotta grab my daily wolf potion.”

Jaemin laughed at that, but he grabbed his bag and said, “Sure.”

Telling Jeno went somewhat similar, though a bit less emotional on Renjun’s part.

He sought him out in the Hufflepuff common room — he’d spent so much time going over Herbology notes and essays with Jeno that he knew their passwords by heart — and sat him down in an empty corner. Saying it so prefaced for the second time went a lot better than the first time, and Jeno gave him a sad smile and a gentle hug.

As it turned out, though, Jeno had a werewolf in his family — his uncle had been bitten as a small child and had lived with it all his life. He had a job, too; he worked in a muggle bookstore; he was pushing fifty, and he was doing rather well.

According to Jeno, at least. He did also tell him that his uncle was unmarried and had never had a stable relationship, which made Renjun’s heart fall into his feet, even though, upon seeing Renjun’s expression, Jeno scrambled to explain that his uncle was also a bit weird in general, and that was probably the reason, not his lycanthropy.

Renjun still thought about it, while he made notes to study for his Transfiguration exam. If he would be alone for the rest of his life, if he would ever find someone who could love him despite him turning into a monster once a month.

He’d been so scared about his _friends_ hating him for it, how could he expect a _lover_ to stay?

Not that Renjun had ever been much of a person to date — the only person he’d ever had some form of real romantic interest in was Jaemin, and that was not an option that would ever happen. He’d gone out with someone for a few weeks in fifth year, but it had never been more than awkward Hogsmeade dates and a few clumsy kisses in front of the Slytherin common room. He’d been a Ravenclaw, and Renjun had quickly figured out that he’d been more interested in the art the boy created than in him as a person. They had parted as friends and still greeted each other in the corridors.

He didn’t know how he was ever supposed to meet someone new and tell them about his affliction — he didn’t want to enter a relationship without the other person knowing, but how would you break that someone you didn’t already know? Even telling his friends had been painful, and hard. Not to imagine what it’d be like with a near stranger.

Who would want to get with a deadly monster, even in this day and age? Who wouldn’t turn him down?

But he had more important things to worry about, he told himself. Memorizing these Transfiguration notes, for example, so that he wouldn’t fail his exams and have to stay at Hogwarts a year longer.

Their exams were creeping closer, and all of their professors were urging them to study, had been going over the material with them and had handed out lists to study from. Renjun had been spending almost all of his afternoons in the library, revising the material and writing out notes longer than any essay he’d ever written for those subjects.

Once upon a time, these exams would’ve been a defining factor for his future. Now, he wasn’t sure if he would ever get a job, no matter if he did well on his exams or not. He still worked his arse off for them, if only because it gave him something to strive for, and a sense of nostalgia for the life he had once dreamed of having.

Donghyuck came by to check on him every now and then — he’d always hated studying in the library, and he only came in to smuggle a few pieces of toast and a cup of tea to Renjun’s table at the very back. A lifesaver, really.

Jeno joined him, sometimes, and they spent an entire weekend testing each other on their Herbology knowledge. Jeno was a lot better at it than Renjun, but that meant he was actually helpful to study with, as he corrected Renjun’s mistakes with ease and let him read through his own, much neater notes when he needed to.

On a rare afternoon that he let himself rest, he still came to the library to help Jaemin study for History of Magic, even though he hadn’t been taking that course since fifth year. It was soothing, spending time with Jaemin as they conversed about the goblin rebellions of the seventeenth and eighteenth century, taking a twist on it to discuss the still ongoing fight for the rights of magical creatures other than wizards, something that, Jaemin noted down, Professor Jung would surely like if he did that on his exam. Modern twists on historical events were always a welcome topic.

“Don’t you wish we could be done with this already?” Jaemin sighed, putting down his quill.

Renjun looked up from where he had been doodling some runes on the margins of his parchment — he’d spent so much time staring at them in his Ancient Runes book that they’d been burnt into his mind.

He sent Jaemin a nod. “Yes, I can’t wait to sleep for a few weeks, at the very least. My family isn’t gonna see my face for, like, two weeks after I come home. Even my exhaustion is exhausted.”

Jaemin grinned and picked his quill back up to continue his notes. He mumbled to himself as he wrote, and Renjun found it to be soothing, quite a therapy session to be doodling his runes and listen to Jaemin mutter names and dates of important wizards and witches that Renjun couldn’t care less about. He almost fell asleep right there.

But then Jaemin gently shook his arm, and they headed downstairs to join their friends for dinner.

Their exams were only a week away, now, and the entire student body was visibly on edge — of course, all years would be taking exams, but especially the fifth and seventh years were practically sleeping in their food.

Renjun had to blink his eyes back open a couple of times, and when Donghyuck asked him if he could hand him the sauce, he automatically replied with a recount of the flesh-eating tree’s most obvious traits.

“By Merlin, it’s about time we all get some time off,” Donghyuck yawned. The circles around his eyes were darker than the ink of their books, and he could barely keep his head up anymore. “I guess there’s a reason why they call these exams nastily exhausting, huh.” He took a bite of his steak, and chewed it slowly, as if his jaw was too heavy to move.

Renjun’s first exam was Transfiguration, which was what he’d wanted to teach, once upon a time. It had always been his best subject, so he wasn’t all too worried when he and Donghyuck took their seats in the Great Hall that Monday. He’d studied well, and he’d made sure to get a lot of sleep the night before.

Donghyuck, on the other hand, looked a bit like death personified.

The rest of their exams went similarly — Renjun had five of them to take, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Potions and Ancient Runes. He had studied for all of them until his brain had met its limit, and he was sure that he had done okay on all of them. His Potions exam had lasted a couple hours, and he’d stood over his cauldron until his hair had stood up off his head, sweat had beaded on his forehead and his cheeks had been tinted red — but he had finished the potion within the time limit, and Professor Moon had given him a smile and a nod when he had handed it in.

When he exited the castle after his Ancient Runes exam on Friday, his friends were sitting on the grass near the lake. Even Mark had joined them, all of his work done for the day, and he smiled at Renjun when he sat down next to him.

Donghyuck had long passed out when Renjun arrived, too exhausted after he’d sat through his five hour Arithmancy exam, but Jeno and Jaemin, who had already finished their last exam the day before, were playing exploding snap on the blanket they’d spread out on the ground, and Mark was holding his face into the sun.

“You ready to go home?” Jaemin asked, looking up to where Renjun had sat down with them.

“Oh, absolutely.” Renjun laughed as he undid his tie and moved to lie down next to Donghyuck. There was one more full moon he would have to go through, two days before the train home would depart. But he still had a few days to spare until then, a few _free_ days, on top of that, as all of their courses and exams were done, and he intended to spend all of them with his friends instead of worrying of what was to come — it might drive him insane otherwise.

They left for Hogsmeade the next day, and spent most of their time lounging around in the Three Broomsticks, sipping on Firewhiskey until they grew red in the faces — it still made Renjun pull a face at every sip, burning the entire way down into his tummy, but he ordered a second glass, anyway.

Seeing his friends get drunk like that was still an unfamiliar experience, too, as they had had little time for it ever since they had turned into adults the year before. It made Jaemin gigglier, even opener with his affections. He leaned heavily on Renjun’s shoulder even when he couldn’t have been that drunk yet, just about an hour into their visit.

They hadn’t intended to get too drunk, though, so they left the pub halfway into the afternoon and tried not to stumble too much as they made their way over the rough cobbled street to Honeydukes.

Jeno’s mother greeted them from behind the counter, and while she scolded them when she noticed the red tint of Jeno’s cheeks, her smile never faded. “What can I get you boys? Or do you want to look around yourselves?”

They ended up filling baskets full of sweets to take back with them, and Jeno’s mother gave them a small discount because she liked them all so much, and because Jaemin had about the most convincing puppy eyes on this side of the universe — Renjun could testify. No counting the times he had given in to things because of Jaemin’s pout and eyes.

And when they made their way back up to the castle, still fuzzy from the Firewhiskey and with their bags laden with treats, the sun was shining down on them warmly, and Renjun took a long look at his home slowly coming into view.

They wouldn’t be at Hogwarts for much longer, and maybe they were to never return after they would step back out of the front gates next week, but it would always remain a part of them. It had been their home for larger portions of times than their own families’ houses these past seven years, and it would be hard to forget a place like this. Renjun had always wanted to stay here — come back to teach after he graduated and never leave. Now that life had taken that opportunity from him, too, he didn’t know when he would ever find a place that felt so much like home again.

So as they walked up to the castle, he took Jaemin’s hand because he could, and he clung to it, just to have something to lean on. Jaemin didn’t question him — he just squeezed his hand back.

The five of them easily filled a compartment on the train, so they drew the curtains and closed the door, and Renjun closed his eyes as he sank back into the cushion of his seat.

He had woken up in the Shrieking Shack again the day before, to be transported back to the castle on a floating stretcher by Irene, because this time, the wolf had shattered his shin. The shame had burnt so hot he’d almost cried from it, as Irene had found him sprawled out on the ground, still naked because he hadn’t been able to get up. Irene hadn’t cared, she’d probably seen worse, but he’d been so ashamed that he hadn’t been able to stop a tear from slipping.

He’d spent the day in a bed in the hospital wing, trying to sleep as his bones painfully grew back together, and had only hobbled downstairs for dinner, because he and Heejin had been expected to give a speech after Professor Kwon.

Standing in front of the entire student body in the Great Hall had been painful, too, with all eyes on him, marred as he was. The scar on his cheek had started to fade into a silvery colour, no longer as jarringly red, but the night before had gifted him a new dark bruise blossoming on his cheekbone. He’d noticed the stares, the gaping eyes as everyone tried to get a look at what had happened to him, if he’d been punched in the face or maybe attacked again, but he had held his head up high and had faced it until he’d been able to sit down and hide his head against Jeno’s shoulder.

Now, he was just exhausted. Wendy had given him more bone mending potion the morning before their departure, because his bones had been pretty badly shattered, and it made him drained, on top of his general exhaustion.

He had let his eyes fall shut before they had even departed from the station, and when he woke back up, they were somewhere in the middle of the Scottish countryside, and he was cushioned against Jaemin’s arm. Jeno and Donghyuck had brought out their Honeydukes stash, and offered Renjun a cup of pumpkin juice when they noticed he was awake.

He declined, but he accepted the chocolate frog Jeno offered him. Chocolate always made him feel better, had since he’d been little, and he gave Jeno a smile for remembering. He didn’t move away from Jaemin’s arm.

Somewhere in the middle of Donghyuck laying out precisely how he would spend his summer at one of his family’s lake houses in the south of England — something about his cousin having flown halfway across the globe on his broomstick to spend the summer with them, or maybe it was his aunt who lived on a dragon resort in Romania — Renjun must have fallen back asleep, because the next time he opened his eyes, they were rolling through London.

Donghyuck still hadn’t finished his story about his cousin, who, apparently, worked with a rare species of elves in Russia, and while Jeno was listening rather attentively, Mark and Jaemin were packing up their bags already.

“We’re almost there,” Jaemin told him when Renjun sat up, which was unnecessary, but he smiled at him, anyway.

Parting ways at King’s Cross was familiarly dramatic, though Renjun sensed the slight awkwardness even when Chenle stepped out of the train with his friends. He knew they were all thinking of what had happened after the last time they had parted ways like this, from the way Donghyuck eyed him when he thought he wasn’t looking, to how he felt like Jaemin squeezed him just a bit tighter, and didn’t hold him for as long as he usually would. Mark ruffled his hair and Renjun trapped him in a hug before he could escape, laughing into his ear.

“We’ll all write to each other,” Jeno said, trapping Renjun under his arm and against his side. “Like, every week. I’ll send you so many owls you’ll be sick of me by tomorrow.” He squeezed Renjun tighter, and Renjun had to make a small sound of discomfort at the pressure against his injuries for Jeno to let go and apologize quietly.

“Send pictures,” Jaemin told them. “Of everything you do, yes, I wanna see your lunch.” Donghyuck laughed, and Jaemin swatted at him. “You especially! You never write, man, I wanna see your fancy lake house and those rare elves.”

They all laughed for a bit before it faded out into them staring at the train together. Renjun’s heart felt heavy.

Into the delicate silence, Jeno asked, “We won’t lose touch, yes?”

“Of course not, you big numpty,” Renjun said, flicking Jeno against the shoulder. “You aren’t gonna get rid of me that fast. Remember third year? I meant it when I said for life.”

“Oh yes, I’m dead serious about this, too,” Mark said, bumping Jeno with his hip. “You better not forget your elders.”

Donghyuck nodded, wrapping both of his arms around Jeno’s shoulders. “I’ll send you pages of letters. You can all come visit me, too, I’ll probably be around the country a lot, but I’ll let you know where to find me.”

“You can visit me, too,” Renjun said, swallowing when they looked at him. He’d been thinking about this for a while. “I will probably spend the summer at our old house, I’ll owl you the address. There’s more than enough room for everyone, so you can all come at once, if you’d like to. And there’s … a basement. A magically reinforced basement.”

They sent him silently understanding looks, and Jaemin reached out to squeeze his hand.

They parted, then, with Jeno giving him one last hug and Jaemin letting go of his hand only hesitantly. Renjun squeezed it back and sent him a smile before he joined Chenle where he was standing closer to the barrier.

“Can you apparate?” Chenle asked, forehead creased in unusual concern. They had had little time together since the incident, as they had both been wrapped up in studying for their exams, and they had never talked much at Hogwarts all that much these past six years. They had better things to do than stand on each other’s feet at school, too.

Renjun scoffed and grabbed Chenle by the arm. He didn’t bother to reply, just apparated them home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Leave me a kudos and/or a comment if you did!
> 
> See you on Wednesday!! :^D
> 
> (Twitter: @kitthae)


	7. seven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this chapter! Be prepared hehe
> 
> Warnings: *Mentions* (meaning it does not happen explicitly but is mentioned) of all following things: falling from great heights, hospital stays, scars + blood
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

They’d been in their fifth year when Renjun had gotten the letter.

Small and plain, unremarkable, it had dropped on their breakfast table right after Donghyuck’s issue of the Daily Prophet, and Renjun had reached out for it immediately, excited because he had always rarely gotten post from home.

But what he’d found inside the letter had not been exciting at all. It had been written in his mother’s neat handwriting, letter rowed after letter, as if she’d tried to be calm, and every word that he’d read had brought Renjun closer to tears.

Something had happened at Kun’s workplace — he’d fallen from a high stand as he’d tried to hand supplies to someone he was working with on the site just a few days into his first week, and although someone’s spells had caught him mid-air before he could’ve reached and hit the ground, he had still broken a few bones and suffered a mild trauma to his head during the fall and had stayed at St. Mungo’s until he’d felt better.

His mother had tried to explain to him that it had all been fine, Kun had been fine, but Renjun had very much felt like nothing had been fine — and he hadn’t even been allowed to visit him in the hospital.

Chenle had gotten a letter, too, but he’d passed by Renjun silently when they’d met in the Entrance Hall.

Renjun just hadn’t understood; he’d been half hysterical, worried sick about his brother, and Chenle hadn’t even looked at him, hadn’t even a pulled a frown. His mother had just been calm, saying that Kun had fallen from a fifty meter high up stand like it was nothing.

Ditching his classes for the day, he had holed up in his dorm to write an angry letter back to his mum, demanding to at least be allowed to visit Kun, to make sure that he really had been fine.

He’d never sent it, though, because halfway into the afternoon, someone had knocked on the door and Renjun had opened it to let Jaemin in — even though he’d known for sure that Jaemin had had a Charms lesson to attend in that very moment. He had said nothing about it though, because he’d already been mad, and had just sat back down.

Jaemin had sat with him the entire afternoon. He hadn’t let him finish his letter, but he’d talked to him, about whatever had come to mind, and he’d distracted him from all the angry thoughts and the pent up worry.

It had not been the best day he’d ever spent with Jaemin; it had actually been a pretty awful day altogether, but it had been one that he still remembered. When Jaemin had discarded everything he’d had to do, even though they’d both known that Professor Im would not be gentle on him for skipping, just to sit with him and distract him.

They’d curled up on Renjun’s bed and they’d played a long round of exploding snap and Jaemin had told him all about his annoying little cousins — who were muggles, like everyone in Jaemin’s family except for him.

“You’re so special,” Renjun had told him, when they’d skipped dinner and he’d been getting a bit sleepy and he’d been curled up on his bed and Jaemin had been so close, and so warm. He’d meant to say something about Jaemin being the only wizard in his family, that had been what he’d originally meant by saying that, but then Jaemin had grinned at him, that wide grin that almost split his face in half, that made his eyes sparkle and his cheeks push up, pink, and Renjun had decided that Jaemin was special no matter if he was from a family of muggles or not.

It could have been that day, he sometimes thought. The day he’d first felt his heart thump a bit louder whenever he’d looked at Jaemin, the day he’d first wanted to lean down and kiss Jaemin’s smile.

He wasn’t sure, though. It could have been every other day — every single time Jaemin had brought him a bowl of soup or a piece of toast when he’d missed dinner again. Every single time Jaemin had joined him while he’d been studying in the library, just so he wouldn’t be alone with his books. Every single time they’d walked to Hogsmeade together, and their hands had brushed between them, sending sparks up Renjun’s spine.

Jaemin had been the most intriguing part of his life ever since they’d met when they’d been eleven. Nothing about that had changed since then — except for the fact that Renjun’s want to kiss him grew stronger with every day.

There was something soothing about living in a big house all on your own.

It was creepy, certainly, to be alone in these wide halls, where he could never have the entire place under control, but it was still soothing. To get up out of his childhood bed every morning and open the curtains in every room manually because he felt like it, to brew himself a cup of tea and sit on the porch with it, staring out into the sunny fields.

Sometimes he stayed at the kitchen table with his tea and a few pieces of toast, looking out of the window.

His family hadn’t come with him, because his parents couldn’t abandon the shop for that long, and Chenle was spending most of his summer with his friends and had no time to waste for his brother.

Renjun was on his own out here, and he was honestly fine with that. He could stay in bed for as long as he wanted, he could have crap for breakfast every day without his mother bullying him for it, he could spend his days doing nothing.

On the first day, he had walked through the bushes at the back of the garden. The place where he had been attacked. It all looked so much more peaceful in the daylight, when he wandered through the bushes with a calm mind, even though the clear gap where the werewolf had leapt through the bushes had made him momentarily feel sick.

The rain had washed away the blood he had left on the grass. He’d almost smiled.

It had been over two months since the attack, and he was still healing. The wound at his side had almost closed up, leaving angry red scars that would never fade, and the rest of his body was littered in scars, too, some fresher than others. He sat in front of the mirror, on some mornings, counting them all. He hadn’t yet figured out if it was therapy or torture. Sometimes it felt good, almost grounding. A reminder he was human, he could scar and bruise.

Sometimes he cried and covered all mirrors in the house for days on end.

He wrote to his friends a lot, as he had promised, and it always excited him when an owl flew in through his open kitchen window. Donghyuck sent pictures of him dunking his little cousins into the lake, and Jeno and Mark were spending the first few weeks of the summer together in a small town in the Netherlands.

The only one he had yet to hear back from was Jaemin, but he tried not to think about that.

He wrote to his parents, too, and on a whim, he sat down at his father’s old desk in his old study and wrote a long letter to Elkie. Telling her that he was staying here, for the time being, if she wanted to — if she could — visit. Thanking her, for getting help and trying to fight off the werewolf on her own until the others came running from the house. He wouldn’t have survived if she hadn’t done that. Thanking her for not speaking up against him in court when he’d defended the boy, for letting him save him. He knew that she’d wanted to. This was her pain, too. But she hadn’t.

The ministry had moved the pack to a hilly part in Scotland, even further from society than they’d been out here. That had been their own request, and Renjun’s mother had made sure that they had negotiated all consequences with the members of the pack before enforcing them.

Now he was here, and he could spend his day out on the porch and commit to healing.

The flowers in the garden grew beautifully in the summer, and Renjun had lifted all spells in place to keep it tended to — he liked nature the most when it grew wild. Maybe that was another part of him that this had uncovered. A fondness for the wild.

There was a town a few miles down the road, far enough that they wouldn’t hear anything on a full moon night, or start talking about the weird mansion behind the hills, but close enough that he could walk there. He did, when he felt lonely, wandering down the path into town to buy some food and chat with the townspeople.

On other lonely days he sat down by the side of the small river running down the hill, and wrote letters that he would never send. Full of cheesy words and literature that he had never had a skill for, but had always enjoyed.

Jaemin already didn’t reply to his normal letters, so there was no point being delusional. Renjun still addressed the letters to him, careful to be extra neat when spelling out his name on the envelopes, small and in perfect cursive.

And when the afternoons had passed, and the sun dipped slowly towards the horizon, Renjun had whatever his fridge would give for dinner, drew all curtains in the house manually again, just for the routine of it, had another cup of tea on the porch, listening to the crickets hum in the fields. And then he buried himself deep in his sheets.

It was okay. For now, things were okay. He knew they wouldn’t be forever, and he would have to think of a place to work at that would allow him to inconspicuously be absent once a month. There was only so much money he could mooch off his parents, and he was sure that he would never be able to live in that apartment again. The pure thought of accidentally staying there too late and tearing down the entirety of Diagon Alley filled him with anxiety.

But right there, on the porch with the crickets in the distance and a cup of tea, things were okay. For once.

The first full moon outside of Hogwarts was approaching fast. Renjun had struck up a charmed calendar in his kitchen that would remind of how many days were left until the next one, and that day it read a big, black zero.

He hadn’t been able to brew the Wolfsbane Potion. He’d tried, had sat over his cauldron in his parents’ old bedroom for hours with the recipe, but despite his N.E.W.T. mark in Potions being an Exceeds Expectations, it hadn’t worked because he didn’t have enough money for the high quality ingredients, and the cheaper substitutes made it useless.

Without the effects of the potion, the pull of the moon was stronger on him the day before. He’d planned on doing a bit of gardening, tend to the flowers he had left to grow wild instead of letting magic do it, but when he woke up, he didn’t even have the energy to go and open the curtains. It was done with a flick of his wand, but it felt wrong. He still made himself tea, even though his hands shook. At least it would soothe the ache in his bones. Hopefully.

He didn’t go out to the porch, just sat at the table and tried to will his headache away as he sipped on his tea.

Measures had been put into place, both to keep him safe and to keep others safe from him. The already magically reinforced basement had been reinforced even more, his parents and a few ministry workers had seen to that.

They had also installed shackles on the walls there because, as an extra precaution, Renjun would have to put himself in chains before the full moon rose. His stomach turned at the thought alone, but he knew it was important.

For now, though, he sat and drank a second cup of tea as he tried to will himself to be conscious enough to write an answer to Jeno’s letter, but he could barely remember how words worked. He had a bit of chocolate stored away in one of the cabinets, and he chewed on that while he wrote. It kept him in the moment, at the very least.

Full moons with the effects of the Wolfsbane Potion had already been bad, but this was a nightmare.

In the early evening, just a few hours short of sundown, did he feel the ache in his ribs, like something was trying to spring from within him, and he had to hold himself up against the sofa so as to not crumble to the ground.

When it had ebbed away, he hurried into the kitchen and swallowed a few gulps of pain potion.

Just as he had put the bottle back into the cabinet he kept it all in — pain potions, bone mending potions, wound cleaning potions, all that he needed, and even a sad attempt at what had been supposed to be Wolfsbane Potion — someone knocked on the front door. He turned around with a frown.

It had been a while since he had last gotten a visit, and that day was probably the worst day out of all. His mother had visited a few times, especially in the evenings when the shop was closed and she was done at the ministry, too. But they mostly kept in contact over letters when she wanted to know how he was doing on his own, and she would usually announce that she would come by. If she did, she was not one for spontaneous visits.

So who would be at his door, on the day of the full moon? Everyone who knew him well enough to visit should know to check if he was in any condition to welcome a visitor — and that that day was not one of the days he would be.

“Coming!” he called out to the door, flicking his wand to turn off the stove and close the backdoor, in case he had to spend more time at the door to get rid of some kind of salesman, before he hurried into the hallway.

Light fell in through the windows above the door, but he had yet to spell a spyhole into the door, and he guessed it would be a bit weird to do that now, or to try and get a look at his guest through the windows, so he just faced it.

He opened the door to sunlight flooding in and his breath being knocked out of his lungs.

“Hi.” A smile bloomed on Jaemin’s face, and Renjun felt the ache spring back up, though he suspected that it originated somewhere else, this time. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave me a kudos and/or a comment if you did! ♥
> 
> I will unfortunately be very busy on Sunday, so the Sunday update will probably be uploaded on Saturday. See you then! :D


	8. eight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with the promised Sunday update coming on Saturday. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: injuries

He woke as soon as the moon had set.

His body ached all over and his skin had rubbed raw under the shackles around his ankles and wrists, and he was too tired to stand up and reach for the clothes and his wand he had stored in the window niche under the ceiling, just out of reach for someone who was not stretching to reach it. He did have a rough blanket on the floor somewhere next to him, which he pulled over himself for cover before he fell back asleep.

It was harder like this — with the Wolfsbane Potion, he had been able to remember most of what he’d done while transformed, had been able to stop himself from doing things to hurt himself. The effects had still been weak, but they would’ve grown stronger with each full moon if he had continued taking the potion.

Now, though, he only remembered the night in flashes of consciousness, and the ache spread over his body.

The ground was cold and hard under him, and the blanket was scratchy and probably infested with all kinds of things, but sleeping there was still preferable to waking up and dealing with the pain the day would bring.

When he next woke, it was to sunlight falling in through the window, and Jaemin kneeling on the ground in front of him, carefully opening the shackles around his ankles. The sunlight reflected in his eyes when he looked up at Renjun, and he slowly reached up to free his wrists, too.

“You’re hurt,” he noted quietly. Renjun’s left wrist stayed lying on Jaemin’s palm, lifelessly.

“I usually am,” Renjun replied, though he had to admit that it had never been this bad before. He had always been able to stop himself from hurting himself too much, but not that night. “Will you let me get dressed?”

Jaemin turned around as Renjun heaved himself up and reached for his clothes, just barely managing to get them down. He was still bleeding from several scratches and bites and he was sure that he had at least sprained something in his leg, but he pulled his clothes on anyway, pressed his lips together and hobbled past Jaemin, up the stairs.

He sat up on the kitchen counter and reached for his cabinet. The witches of Hogwarts’ hospital wing had always done this for him, he’d never done this by himself, but he figured that a pain potion would be a good place to start, so he took a few small sips of the bottle before he put his wand to the swollen lump that used to be his ankle and cast a healing spell. A sharp bolt of pain shot up his leg, and he hissed. Ripping his wand away, though, he could watch the swell go down a bit. He did it again, and then he pressed his wand into all the bruises littering his legs and whispered more healing spells. It stung every time, but he stopped flinching after the third.

Behind him, Jaemin had entered the kitchen without him noticing. Only when he spoke up did Renjun turn around to him in surprise. “Do you want me to help you?”

Renjun scoffed. “Yeah, because you’ve always been so renowned for your healing skills.”

“Well, I can’t exactly say that about you, either,” Jaemin shot back, offering a lazy smile when Renjun tried to glare at him. “If you were to ask me, I think you just broke your ankle even more than it already was.”

“It’s not _broken,”_ Renjun hissed. “I couldn’t walk if it was. But I can.”

“Barely.” Jaemin stepped closer finally, drawing his own wand and gently setting it against the swell of the joint. “May I?” he asked quietly, and when Renjun nodded, words stuck in his throat at the sudden proximity, he whispered a spell. It stung, too, but by far not as bad as Renjun’s own spell had, and then a warm feeling spread up his lower leg.

“See, all better,” Jaemin said, smiling and throwing him a wink. The tips of his fingers brushed against the tender skin, as if to marvel at his work, but then he shook his head and asked, “Anywhere else?”

He thought one of his fingers might be strained, and the warmth spread over his arm when Jaemin cast the spell, too.

“Where did you learn all of this?” Renjun asked with a frown — the last time he’d checked, Jaemin had never been interested in medicine magic, and the one time he’d tried to heal a cut on Jeno’s arm in their sixth year, he’d only made the blood flow faster and Irene had almost slapped him on the fingers when she’d arrived.

Jaemin shrugged. “Maybe I’ve been practicing,” he said, but even when Renjun raised an eyebrow at him, he didn’t elaborate any further. “Do you have anything for cleaning these wounds?” he asked instead.

Renjun reached for another bottle in the cabinet, and Jaemin spent the next few minutes bowed dangerously close to him, letting the potion drip droplet by droplet into the scratches and bites that littered Renjun’s skin. It stung like hell, but Renjun grit his teeth and bore it. Even as Jaemin cast healing spells over the clean wounds and he had to sit through the stinging pain of his skin sewing itself back together — he didn’t make a sound.

It was a bit awkward, though, with Jaemin close enough that Renjun could feel his breath on his skin as he focussed on cleaning the wounds and the dried blood around them, gentle fingertips against Renjun’s skin.

Renjun held his breath and tried to tell himself that this was not exactly an appropriate time.

There were a few more scratches on his chest, so he had to lift his shirt for Jaemin to access those, but he did so only just enough, making sure that the bite at his side stayed covered. Jaemin seemed to notice that, thankfully, and he was extra cautious not to jostle him or push his hands further up.

“I think that’s it,” he said finally, after he had cleaned a wound near Renjun’s hip that had made him hold his breath until his lungs had been burning. “You might want to take a bath, you’re a bit dirty. Are you hungry?”

“A little,” Renjun admitted before he could stop himself. He hadn’t had dinner the night before, he’d been too tired and too wrapped up in figuring out what Jaemin had wanted from him, and chaining himself to the basement wall before he’d been too exhausted to do so. Transformations always made him hungry, too, and his stomach was growling.

“Great,” Jaemin said, smiling. “I’ll make breakfast while you take a bath.”

The smell of breakfast filled the house when Renjun stepped back out of the bathroom on the first floor. The bath had been a good idea — he’d poured a pain soothing potion into the water and had sat in the warm softness of it until his body had stopped aching. It had started again when he’d gotten out, and he had been careful to direct his gaze anywhere but the mirror until he’d been dressed, but it had been a pleasant experience, altogether.

His face had remained mostly unscathed this time, except for a tiny nick under his eye that he could heal himself.

When descended the stairs again, he found Jaemin still in the kitchen, frying a few eggs on the stove with his wand while next to him, a kettle of tea was pouring two cups by itself. Renjun watched as two plates slid out of a cabinet and floated towards the table, being met with two floating slices of toast mid-air, which landed on them perfectly.

“Ooh, he’s a chef, too,” Renjun commented, and Jaemin spun around to him with a big grin.

“Wait, wait, wait — I’m not done yet,” he said. He twirled his wand again, and ingredients flew out of the fridge and the cabinets, throwing themselves into a pot and mixing under Jaemin’s command. The pot floated, too, mechanically pouring the liquid dough that had just been mixed in it into the other pan whenever a finished pancake floated out and onto the plate next to the stove. Another flick of Jaemin’s wand sent all finished food to the table.

“You really don’t have to be this pretentious,” Renjun said when he sat down in front of a plate laden with eggs, bacon, pancakes and buttered toast, and a fresh cup of his favourite tea.

“I kind of do, it’s my thing,” Jaemin said, sitting down opposite of him. “Come on, dig in. Tell me if it’s good.”

It was wonderful, of course it was. Jaemin had always been an amazing cook, and Renjun knew that he’d spent countless of evenings down in the Hogwarts kitchens with Jeno, cooking whatever had come to mind. His parents owned a restaurant, too, a small place in Muggle London, so he must have inherited this talent from them.

Renjun had been starving, really, and he finished every last bite of that rather extensive breakfast, and when Jaemin saw him picking at the crumbs of the toast left on his plate, he promptly made him another stack of pancakes.

“So what’s the plan?” Renjun asked when he had finished those, too. “Do you want to do anything while you’re here?”

Jaemin looked up at him in surprise, before a smile broke out on his face. “Oh, aren’t you tired? I think you should just rest today. You had a long night, your body needs all the rest it can get, remember?”

Renjun frowned at him. “But — you must’ve come here for a reason —”

“I did, and that reason was to help my friend who would be injured and exhausted after an entire night of turning into a werewolf and biting his own arse. Now, come on, do you wanna go to bed or do you just wanna grab a blanket?”

Renjun squinted. “Are you trying to get me to sleep so you can rob me?”

“Yes, Renjun.” Jaemin looked him dead in the eyes. “I’ve actually only been pretending to be your friend for the last, what, seven years, so that on our final summer together I could break into your family’s rotting old mansion, pretend to be nice to you, and then rob the place while you’re asleep. You got me. That was the plan all along, my cover is blown.”

Renjun swatted at him, and Jaemin’s dry expression finally broke into a grin again.

He did go to grab his favourite blanket from the living room, where he had used it to nap away his pain the afternoon before, and sat out on the porch wrapped in it, with another cup of tea on the small table in front of him.

Jaemin sat with him, but he was silent, feet drawn up onto his chair with him and his nose buried in some muggle book — Renjun had never cared much for muggle technology, but he knew that it was a big topic for Jaemin, possibly of interest for a future career. Instead of trying to peek into the book and learn something, though, Renjun let the sun shine onto his face and didn’t care when he finally slipped off into unconsciousness.

When he woke back up, the sun was considerably lower in the sky, probably late afternoon with how golden it shone over the fields, and his tea had gotten cold on the table. Jaemin had fallen asleep next to him, his book was still open in his lap and his head was propped on Renjun’s shoulder.

With the fresh summer breeze over the fields and Jaemin’s warmth against his side, this did feel like home again.

Jaemin didn’t leave. No, rather, he wouldn’t leave.

Renjun had tried everything within his might to convince him that it was not a good idea to hide away from society here with him — even though every fibre in his body wanted to scream _yes_ at the mere thought — and that he would have to go back to his family and the summer job he had picked up at his parents’ restaurant.

He wouldn’t listen. Apparently he had it all talked out with his parents, that he had to drop helping them to move out to the countryside to live with and help his friend who suffered from a magical condition — which made Renjun sound like an old man in need of assistance, but when he’d said that to Jaemin, he’d only laughed and said that it was kind of true.

Of course, Renjun’s heart picked up considerable speed at the thought of Jaemin ditching his own life for him. To help him, to _live_ with him. Like scandalous lovers hiding from the world in their beautiful countryside mansion.

They weren’t lovers, though, and Jaemin slept in the bedroom down the hall from Renjun’s. Every night he lay awake wondering what would happen if he just snuck over and asked to sleep in his bed. If Jaemin would let him. He supposed he would, but he wasn’t sure if sleeping back to back with Jaemin like _friends_ wouldn’t make it worse.

He still got up every day and drew the curtains in every room by hand, though now he had a bit of help, with Jaemin doing the other side of the house, quickly having become attuned to Renjun’s routine.

And Jaemin cooked breakfast for them every morning — eggs and pancakes and waffles and sausages, which was all so much better than the plain toast Renjun had been eating. Renjun made tea in the meantime, because he was better at that, at least, though he learned that Jaemin preferred coffee. So he taught himself how to do that, too.

They ate breakfast on the porch, too, enjoying summer while it lasted. Jaemin would tell stories about home, about his family and tales from their restaurant, or Renjun would read letters from his own parents out loud to Jaemin. They’d play with an old game of wizard’s chess that Renjun had found in the attic, or read letters from and write letters to their friends, full with pictures of each other and of the beautiful flowers Renjun had grown in the garden.

That was what he spent his afternoons doing, now. He could no longer loiter around the house all day, not with Jaemin everywhere, behind every corner and always ready to catch him off guard.

So he spent his days in the garden instead, trying to teach himself some gardening spells.

Herbology had always been one of his favourite subjects in school, but there weren’t many magical plants out here, just a few that looked pretty. Maybe he should owl Professor Yoon for some things to plant here.

Most of his time out there was also spent catching the garden gnomes and throwing them back out into the field, which Jaemin liked to join him for because he thought it was fun. They made it a competition, trying to see who could throw them the farthest, but Jaemin would dive in to tickle him every time Renjun tried to throw, so it was futile.

The gnomes also had a far better chance at coming back that way, because Renjun found himself largely distracted.

And when the flowers had bloomed prettily and Renjun had quickly shuffled dirt over the gnome holes to hide them, they snapped a few pictures of the garden and promptly owled them to all of their friends.

Jeno still wrote back regularly, like he had promised. He had returned from the Netherlands, and now Mark was off to some places in Asia, where he would further his studies on potions before he returned to Hogwarts for his second year of training as a future potions teacher. Jeno would spend the rest of his summer at home, but he was fine with that.

Renjun wrote back to him with a warm invite to come visit them out here, if he’d like to.

Donghyuck’s letters had gotten rarer, as he wrote in every single one that he wasn’t doing much, still just hanging out with his cousins in one of his family’s many estates around the country. They had recently moved from the lake house up into a castle-like mansion in Scotland, and the letter Donghyuck’s owl had dropped on the kitchen table that day had been fat with the hundreds of pictures Donghyuck had taken of every room out of sheer boredom.

Mark had sent only one letter, which had included a slightly shaky photo of him waving over an enormous cauldron.

Renjun had fetched the letter as soon as it had landed in the kitchen, and had read it to Jaemin as they’d sat on the porch again, his feet propped up in Jaemin’s lap, and they’d both laughed.

Being with Jaemin was calming in ways that Renjun never would’ve dared to imagine. He made his heart beat faster whenever he stepped into the room and Renjun felt like clawing his own heart out more often than not when Jaemin was close to him, just to make it stop making him feel all these things. But Jaemin’s presence was also — calm.

It was nice, having company. Renjun had enjoyed having the house to himself, had even found it soothing, but everything was nicer when you had someone to share it with. His time out on the porch, tea, the flowers.

And if he fell asleep with his head bedded against Jaemin's shoulder when they were both tired from the sun, then that was something that neither of them would write about in the letters they sent to their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will see you Wednesday! Leave me a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed! ♥


	9. nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! I'm sorry the chapter comes a bit late, I'm back in school and have been very busy. I hope you won't mind :D  
> In this chapter we will have a (positive) surprise and a (not so positive) revelation!
> 
> Warnings: nightmares, implied gore, implied self doubt/loathing, body image issues, alcohol

He still got nightmares sometimes.

Not at first — everything had been fine at first, even though the healers at St. Mungo’s had warned him that there may be some things his mind would have to process, he didn’t have nightmares in the hospital or even when he first returned to Hogwarts. They had only started once he’d been sleeping in a room alone, away from people.

It stayed at the nightmares, though, and he didn’t think they were much of a problem, so he didn’t tell anyone.

They weren’t bad, either. He rarely ever relived what had happened to him during the attack, likely because he barely remembered it. Most of the dreams centered on events that had never happened that way, in which he found the werewolf waiting to attack him in the kitchen, or his mother turned into a werewolf in the chair next to his hospital bed, or Donghyuck in his bed next to Renjun’s in the Slytherin dorm. Always ready to pounce and eat him alive.

In a most recent spin-off, though, Renjun broke free from his chains in the basement and tore Jaemin to pieces.

That was also the first dream that made him physically sit up in his bed to cradle his own head in his hands after he’d woken up. It was the first dream that drove him down the stairs to get some water and calm down.

The dreams were rarely graphic, rarely ever got to the point of the being eaten alive — they were mostly just scary, with the threat of what was to come. This one didn’t get to where he had sunken his teeth into Jaemin, either, there’d been no blood, no gore, but the fear of it had been enough to thoroughly shake him up.

He stayed in the kitchen for a while, not really because he was too scared to go back to sleep, but because he actually felt content, standing by the window with a glass of water, watching the still bushes.

A few months ago, there had been eyes between those bushes — more than the pair Renjun had seen. An entire pack of werewolves had lived in the hills, and they hadn’t been dangerous, but they’d tried to find out about the humans that had suddenly moved back into their territory, and Renjun had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was peaceful to look out there now and to know that there was no one there. That he was alone. And that no one in the world could hurt him any more than he was already hurting.

When he did climb the stairs back up, he noticed that he was not the only one awake. Light fell into the corridor through the gap under Jaemin’s door, and before he could stop himself, Renjun was stepping closer.

“Jaemin?” he called out quietly and rapped his knuckles carefully against the wood.

“Oh,” came Jaemin’s voice. “Uh, yes, come in?”

Renjun opened the door to find Jaemin sitting on his bed with the small lamp on his bedside table lit up. He looked very much like he had only just woken up — his blanket was still pooling around his hips, covering his legs, his eyes looked heavy with sleep still, and his hair was sticking up into every direction. He even had a pillow mark on his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Renjun said, fearing he’d been too loud on the creaky stairs. “Did I wake you up?”

“Oh, no.” Jaemin shook his head. “No, you didn’t. I wasn’t sleeping well, I had a nasty dream.”

“Ah,” Renjun breathed out. “Me too.”

He didn’t want to think about if Jaemin had been having nightmares, too — maybe about him — but he couldn’t help himself. Jaemin looked almost delicate, still addled by sleep and sitting between his sheets — a gentle picture.

He didn’t want anything to ever come close to hurting him.

“Is this, like, a recurring thing?” Renjun asked, stepping a little more into the room. “I mean, have you had trouble sleeping recently in general, or is this a onetime thing?” Just a nightmare, or a deeper-rooted problem?

Jaemin shrugged. “Well, it’s always a little weird to be sleeping in a new place, right?”

“So that means this has happened before?” Renjun asked, leaning against the bedpost with his hip.

“Not really to this extent. I’ve been having trouble falling asleep, and I’d wake up in the middle of the night, but this was the first time I really had a nightmare that made me wake up.” He paused, eyes finally starting to clear up a little more. “Wait, but you said you had a nightmare, too. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yes.” Renjun let out a small laugh, shrugging. “It was nothing serious. I just went to get some water.”

Jaemin hummed under his breath, pushing his hair out of his forehead. “Yes, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not used to having a room to myself, I’ve been sharing a room with my cousin for a while now. Maybe I’m just lonely.”

“Yes, well, I share a room with Chenle at home, too.” Renjun took a few more steps closer, shuffling until he was almost next to Jaemin, hovering next to the bed. “I guess you’re right.” He didn’t want to go back to his room, alone.

Jaemin eyed him carefully, but he didn’t close up. He could’ve pulled his blanket back up his body and wished Renjun a good night, signalling him to leave — but he didn’t. His pose stayed open, and his eyes were curious, as if gauging whether or not Renjun wanted to stay. He didn’t betray whether he wanted Renjun to stay, though.

Until after three passed breaths, he said, “Do you — um, do you want to stay? With me.”

His eyes were open, still, almost inviting now. Like he was not only asking if Renjun wanted to.

And of course he did, he’d been thinking about it since the day Jaemin arrived, what it would be like. He’d fallen asleep bedded against Jaemin’s body multiple times, but it was never this intimate. It was always outside with a fresh breeze around their heads, or with other people around. Never alone in the warmth of sheets that smelled like Jaemin.

But despite his heart beating in his throat, Renjun breathed out a hoarse, “Yes.”

Jaemin lifted his comforter and shuffled closer to the wall to make room. The bed was not big enough for the both of them to have enough room, but that was fine. Renjun could feel the heat of Jaemin’s body against his side.

They didn’t look at each other — they lay in silence and stared up at the ceiling, shoulders barely touching, and Jaemin kept his hands above the comforter so their hands wouldn’t brush where Renjun had his own stuffed under it. But it was better than sleeping back to back, and at least, Renjun was surrounded by Jaemin’s scent, and gentle warmth.

“Thank you,” he whispered into the silence, and Jaemin hummed next to him.

“Nothing to thank me for,” he replied, and when Renjun turned to finally look at him, he found him smiling at him.

It was awkward, to lie in silence with your best friend as if you were strangers, but Renjun supposed that that was how it was meant to be. He shuffled just a bit closer, until their shoulders fully touched, and let his eyes fall shut.

Jaemin breathed out deeply next to him, and Renjun let himself drift off. It was so much easier, like this.

Donghyuck and Jeno showed up at the same time and, according to them, it was completely unplanned.

Jeno knocked on the front door sometime in the early morning, and Renjun had to abandon his half done kettle of tea on the stove to go and open it — his initial confusion about the second unannounced visitor in so little time melting away the second he saw Jeno’s face on the other side of the door.

They fell into each other’s arms, laughing, and only then did Renjun realize how much he’d missed Jeno’s hugs.

Jaemin came running from the kitchen when he heard Jeno’s voice and almost slammed him back out the door with how hard he hugged him. If it surprised Jeno to see Jaemin still here, he said nothing.

They had just retreated into the kitchen, where Renjun added more water to his kettle to make tea for Jeno, too, and Jaemin started frying some more eggs, when there was another knock on the door.

Renjun and Jaemin frowned at each other, and this time it was Jaemin who turned off the stove and went to open it.

Renjun tilted his head so he could hear what was going on in the hallway as he poured the boiling water into the cups, but all he could hear were hushed voices and Jaemin letting out a small giggle. He’d just put the cups down on the table and decided that he would go to check for himself, when the kitchen door opened and Donghyuck came into view.

Renjun let out a sound that was almost closer to a shriek, but he had no time to feel embarrassed before Donghyuck was already crossing the distance between them and Renjun flung himself forward, caught in a warm hug.

“How are you both here on the same day completely uncoordinated?” Renjun frowned at where Donghyuck had sat down next to Jeno, as he fired the kettle back up to make another cup of tea for Donghyuck.

Donghyuck and Jeno shrugged at the same time, too. “Maybe we’re soulmates like that,” Jeno said.

Jaemin finished the breakfast and let the plates float over to the table before he sat down with them. “Have you heard from Mark?” They all politely ignored how he looked specifically at Jeno with that question. “How’s he doing?”

“Yes, I got a letter from him yesterday,” Jeno admitted sheepishly. “He said he hasn’t had time to write to you guys yet, he’s been really busy. He’s moving soon, to some place in Mongolia to meet with a healing potions master. But he said that everyone’s been really nice and that he’s been enjoying his time there a lot.”

Renjun set the cup down in front of Donghyuck and finally joined them at the table. Jaemin discreetly pushed his plate closer to him, and Renjun sent him a smile before he turned to Jeno.

“That’s nice,” he said, digging his fork into his eggs. “I hope he’ll write soon. Do you know when he’s coming back?”

Jeno shrugged. “Probably shortly before the new Hogwarts year starts. I hope so, at least.” He looked down at his food, and Renjun decided not to push any further.

Merlin knows he’d be the same if Jaemin ever left for that far away for an entire summer.

Donghyuck and Jeno helped them clean the kitchen after breakfast, and Renjun ushered them all out onto the porch to enjoy the sun for a while. He’d gotten a new letter from his mother before breakfast, and he was itching to open it and read it without the other three around. He’d been waiting for this letter for a while.

But just when he had ripped the envelope open, the door behind him opened again.

“What do you need?” he asked, sighing as he fingered the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it.

Donghyuck remained quiet, just leaned against the counter opposite of where Renjun was standing and stared at him until Renjun looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“What is it?” he asked again, and it drew a small chuckle out of Donghyuck this time.

“So, are you going to tell me what all of this is?” he asked finally, crossing his arms over his chest.

Renjun sighed and put the letter down on the counter — he would not be able to read this until Donghyuck left him alone, anyway — before he leaned against the counter similarly to Donghyuck. “What what is?”

Donghyuck gestured around the room, especially towards the door that led to the porch, but Renjun elected to ignore the implications of that. “You know exactly what I mean. This.”

“This is my family’s house,” Renjun responded drily.

Donghyuck breathed a sigh out through his nose, but his eyes spark up with something like amusement. “You’re just being difficult, now. I mean — Jaemin. Why’s he still here? Are you guys together?”

“Of course not.”

“What do you mean, _of course?_ You’ve had a crush on him for years, and don’t even try to deny that. And now he’s been staying with you for over a week, makes no signs of planning to leave, and you two are just innocently playing house? You wanna tell me there’s nothing else going on here?”

“Yes, because there isn’t. And we aren’t _playing house._ He’s here to help me.”

Donghyuck scoffed. “Help you with what? The thing that happens once a month? Fine, let’s say that was really the reason he came here — why’s he still here, then? What reason is there for him to stay beyond those, like, two days?”

“I don’t know, I _told_ him he should leave, that it’s no use staying here, but he wouldn’t —”

“Because he doesn’t want to,” Donghyuck finished for him, and scoffed again. “You’re so dense.”

Renjun looked down to where he’d rested the letter on the counter. His mother’s neat handwriting filled almost the entire page, and he knew that what she’d written was important, but he could barely bring his eyes to even focus on the greeting words. His heart was beating hollowly in his chest, making his blood pulse hotly in his veins, and his body felt too tight for himself. For everything about himself, really, his heart and his stomach, and — he could barely breathe.

“I’m not,” he mumbled, but he didn’t dare look back up. “I’m not, but there are other things at play here, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck fell very silent at that, and from the corner of his eyes, Renjun could see his hands twitch. As if he wanted to reach out, almost. But he didn’t. His hands remained limp at his sides.

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck said after a few breaths had passed. “I didn’t think about that.”

“I could tell.” Renjun didn’t mean for it to come out so viciously, but it still did. He closed his eyes. “I got a letter from my mum, I meant to read it. Maybe you should join the others outside.”

“Yes.” Renjun still didn’t look up at Donghyuck, but his voice sounded weird. Wounded, almost. “I’m sorry.”

Renjun didn’t reply. Only when the door fell shut behind Donghyuck’s retreating steps did he open his eyes again.

It was even more awkward this time around, but that didn’t stop Renjun anymore.

The air around him and Donghyuck had cooled down at some point in the afternoon when they had spread a blanket on the grass outside and eaten the chocolate biscuits Jaemin had baked the day before under the warm summer sun. It was hard to stay mad at your friends when you were all laughing and sharing food in the hazy summer heat.

Jeno marvelled at the gardens, and Renjun took him on a quick walk around the bushes and the tendrils sprawling wildly. He carefully avoided that specific point, and he was glad that Jeno didn’t seem to care.

He was also a bit queasy about leaving Donghyuck alone with Jaemin after the conversation they had had in the morning, but when he and Jeno rounded the corner arm in arm to approach their friends, they were both laughing and Jaemin was trying to force feed Donghyuck a biscuit, so Renjun supposed Donghyuck hadn’t said anything.

Not that he would’ve expected him to. He tried to push down the burning feeling in the pits of his stomach.

Jaemin offered him a biscuit when they reached the blanket, and Renjun took it with a smile.

And when the sun dipped behind the horizon, Renjun dug up some old bottles of Firewhiskey that were probably more expensive than the house they were stored in, and they knocked it back straight out of the bottles.

Renjun tried not to get too drunk, but he had long learned that his friends were mostly lightweights. So once the sun had fully disappeared and Donghyuck and Jaemin were giggling even more than they normally would, Renjun and Jeno made it their responsibility to get the two of them to bed.

There were too many bedrooms in the house, sprawling everywhere, and Renjun discreetly led Jeno and Donghyuck rather far away from the hallway he and Jaemin were staying in, hoping that Jaemin wouldn’t say anything.

No matter how much he hated himself for it, he still wanted to be alone with him. His heart acted too fast for his head.

“Good night, Injunnie, Jaem,” Donghyuck slurred, almost toppling over himself as leaned in to press a damp kiss to Renjun’s cheek. “Don’t let little Merlin gnaw at your feet, and all, and —”

Whatever he had wanted to say next — and Renjun was very sure that he knew what he’d been going to say, teased by the twinkle in his winking eyes — was drowned out when Renjun shut the door firmly.

Jeno was a bit drunk, too, but he wished them both goodnight with a hug and retreated into a room on his own.

On the way back to their half of the house, though, Jaemin slung both of his arms over Renjun’s shoulders from behind, dragging his feet as if they were too heavy to follow his command. “I’m so tired,” he whined into Renjun’s ear, pulling on him like he was trying to get him even closer to his chest. “So, so tired. Will you stay with me again tonight?”

Around the lump quickly forming in his throat, Renjun’s voice came out hoarse. “If you want me to.”

Jaemin hummed, and Renjun felt his chest vibrate against his back. “I want you to.”

Luckily that was the last flight of stairs he had to climb with Jaemin hanging off his back, and the room Jaemin had been staying in was only a few steps away from it. Jaemin didn’t leave him room for protest as he let them both inside.

Not that he’d wanted to protest, until, of course, Jaemin reached to pull his own shirt off — Renjun turned away immediately, fighting the heat that threatened to rise in his cheeks.

“I’ll just, uh, go grab some clothes to sleep from my room. So you can get dressed in peace, too.”

Jaemin laughed when he tried to leave the room, and weakly wrapped a hand around his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you can just borrow some of mine, it’s no big deal.” He was still shirtless, and Renjun was doing his very best to keep his eyes averted. “Wait, here, I think I have these pants that are a bit too small for me …” Jaemin finally, finally, pulled his sleep shirt over his head before he went to dig through the small closet he had set up with the clothes from the bag he’d brought with him. From it, he pulled a pair of joggers and a t-shirt and threw them to Renjun.

“Come on,” Jaemin almost whined, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking expectantly at Renjun. “I’m tired.”

Jaemin was drunk, Renjun tried to remind himself, at least a little. He probably wasn’t thinking about why Renjun would suddenly be embarrassed to get undressed in front of him, after all those years. And why he maybe shouldn’t push him to do so. So he tried to be gentle when he asked, “Can you — can you turn around?”

The embarrassment of seeing _Jaemin_ undress in front of him stemmed from a completely different place — that being the little crush he had harboured for years. But he himself had never been shy in front of his friends. Not like this.

They had practically grown up together, had spent countless of summer days dunking each other into lakes and lazing around on the grass behind Donghyuck’s family estates in their underwear while their clothes dried. They’d played Quidditch together outside of school, and had to wash the dirt off of their skin afterwards.

Renjun had always been a bit shy about seeing Jaemin’s body, but never about shedding his own clothes.

But it was different now. His body didn’t look the way everyone else’s bodies did anymore, it was unchartered territory. And he hadn’t shared the image of his scars with anyone outside of the circle of necessary people.

Jaemin frowned at him for it at first, though, letting a small laugh slip. “Why? Are you suddenly getting shy?”

“No, it’s —” Renjun looked down at the clothes in his hands, the silvery scar that started right under his thumb and ran up his arm until it disappeared under his sleeve. “Could you please just —”

“Oh,” Jaemin breathed out, finally catching on, and his eyes widened. “Right. I’m sorry.”

He turned around dutifully, and Renjun quickly shed his clothes and pulled on the ones Jaemin had handed him. They were big on him, but it was comfortable once he finally moved to climb onto Jaemin’s bed.

And yes, it was awkward still. Maybe it would always be with them, because opposed to what Donghyuck may have thought of him, Renjun wasn’t dense. He maybe had been once oblivious to the way Jaemin looked back at him, the handholding and the small touches. He wasn’t anymore, because even though he couldn’t be sure if Jaemin had ever returned his feelings — because Jaemin had never told him so — he still wasn’t blind.

But that would have changed nothing.

Renjun hated himself for just being there, for indulging himself in the quiet warmth of Jaemin’s presence, Jaemin’s shallow breathing next to him. He knew it was unfair, if Jaemin really felt that way about him.

Because even though Renjun felt the same way, it didn’t make this any more possible.

So maybe it would always be awkward, and maybe it was good that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you on Sunday! Leave me a Kudos or a comment if you enjoyed!


	10. ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again with a chapter that's very close to my heart. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Talks of coping, slightly self-destructive behaviour

Jeno and Donghyuck stayed another day, lounging around on the grass fields and exchanging stories about their summers that had not yet been covered in their letters.

Donghyuck had, as expected, spent most of his days lazing in Britain’s weak summer sun in several of his family’s estates. His cousins and his siblings had been there with him, and his parents had been hacking him off about finding a job good enough to keep up the family status — not that they needed any more money, but good jobs had a pleasant look.

Jeno, on the other hand, had been helping his parents with their various shops across Great Britain ever since he’d returned from the Netherlands, which also included a lot of travelling, but less fun while doing so.

“I don’t know how you promise yourself any kind of future with that,” he told Jaemin, stretching his legs out on the grass. “I definitely won’t be doing it anymore once I get a proper job. It’s so boring, but — _exhausting.”_

Jaemin only hummed, didn’t say anything in return. Renjun was almost sure he was dozing with the sun in his face.

Waking up with Jaemin had been less weird than falling asleep next to him had been. Jaemin had been softer in the morning, still blurred from the alcohol they’d had the night before, and all he’d done had been breathing against Renjun’s arm, a warm tickle against his skin, and complaining about the headache building in his temples.

Renjun had touched his wand to the tip of Jaemin’s nose and had whispered a pain relieving spell. Jaemin had grinned at him, and Renjun had smiled back so softly despite the ache in his heart. He’d wanted to kiss him so badly.

As the afternoon progressed, Renjun pushed himself up from the grass to head inside and make some more tea. They still had biscuits lying around, too, and he had just started stacking them up on a plate when the door behind him opened again, similar to the way it had the day before. Of course, it was also Donghyuck who stepped through it again.

“You coming back for more?” Renjun asked, even though the tension between them had long dissipated.

Donghyuck sighed and leaned against the counter behind him. “You need to talk to him.”

“I don’t think I need to do anything,” Renjun retorted, taking longer than necessary with placing a biscuit on the plate. Donghyuck’s presence almost seemed to burn into his back. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

There definitely was, but he didn’t need Donghyuck to tell him that. He already knew that he would have to talk to Jaemin at some point — though he wished he didn’t. He wished that he could just let it play out the same way he’d been letting every day play out recently: waiting for things to come, enduring them, and holding the memory close to his heart.

If it was up to him, he would let summer pass in peace, and at the end of it, Jaemin would leave. To get a job, to explore the world, to find love far away from here. Far away from Renjun, as he should.

And Renjun would be alone enough to chain himself to the wall in the basement once a month and fix his wounds on the floor of his kitchen and take a long bath and find a muggle job boring enough that no one would care if he disappeared once a month. Jaemin could visit him, they all could, with the families they would eventually have, and Renjun would aim to be their children’s strange uncle, but nothing beyond that. Nothing too serious.

They would forget about him, too, eventually, and that was how it should be.

The life that the wild werewolves had chosen, alone and far away from other humans that would never want them, became more and more attractive with every day that passed in this sad state.

“You can’t just run away from everything and hope things will be fine,” Donghyuck accused him.

Renjun placed the last biscuit on the plate and turned around with it to finally look Donghyuck in the eyes. “Can I not?” he asked, and his voice didn’t shake on a single world despite the pressure in his chest. “Do you not think I should be allowed to hope that things might finally turn out my way for once?”

“Not if your way is letting him dangle and then dropping him when you think it’s most convenient.”

Renjun’s lungs constricted, denying him access to air. It felt like a punch to the gut. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Is it not?” Donghyuck’s words were pure venom now, dripping into Renjun’s most inner core, striking where it hurt. He was smart, eyes sparking with all he knew about Renjun after all those years. Knew him better than anyone else. Better than Jaemin ever could. “Because it sure looks like that’s what you’re doing. Like you’re doing this for you only.”

“I tried to make him leave,” Renjun snapped. “Do you really think I would want this kind of life for him? And maybe I don’t really want him to leave, because I’m selfish. But I still tried, and I will try again. Just — not right now. Please, let me be selfish for just a little longer. At least until the next full moon.” He hated how breathless he got, desperate.

“I said you need to talk to him, not you need to ask him to leave you again.” Donghyuck’s words were curt.

“But that’s what it will end up being. This is not the kind of life he deserves.”

Donghyuck shook his head, and turned around to head out the door again, but not without sending Renjun one last glance, almost sympathetic. “You don’t get to decide that for him.”

They left in the evening.

Donghyuck apparated right in front of the house, but not without giving Renjun’s hand a last squeeze — they’d never been able to stay mad at each other for long. The warmth of Donghyuck’s palm gave him at least some stability.

Jeno, on the other hand, had Renjun walk him to the very edge of the estate, Renjun suspected not without reason.

And he should be proven correct. They had only taken a few steps down the path that led down the hill the house was sat on, away from Jaemin who was cleaning up their mess from the porch, when Jeno said, “Donghyuck told me about the little … disagreement the two of you had.”

Of course he had. Jeno had always been the person Donghyuck turned to first when things went wrong. Renjun knew that it was because Jeno was probably the most reliable out of all of them, and Donghyuck had known Jeno for almost as long as Renjun had known Mark. It was fine. It had never put a strain on their friendship if Renjun had turned to Mark first and Donghyuck had turned to Jeno first, instead of to each other. It had always been okay.

But it was in times like this that Renjun wished Donghyuck would talk things out with _him,_ instead of involving Jeno.

They would probably apologize to each other about what had happened via owl, because they were both better at keeping their temper in check that way, but that didn’t change that Jeno was now informed about something Renjun would’ve rather kept a secret. Not all of his friends needed to know about his … predicament with Jaemin.

So he informed Jeno that, “It was hardly anything.”

Jeno hummed. “And yet you were both upset about it.”

“Not upset,” Renjun objected. “Just … disgruntled. A bit annoyed because he treated me like I don’t know how to handle myself, or like he knows how I feel better than I do. I know he was trying to help, but …” He trailed off.

“Donghyuck can be a bit much at times, I get it.” Jeno kicked a pebble down the path and watched as it rolled away. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or attack you like that, and while I know he will apologize to you later, I apologize on his behalf, anyway. You’re right, he was only trying to help, but I agree that he can be a bit aggressive.”

Renjun crossed his arms in front of his chest. “It’s like … He came to tell me that I need to talk to Jaemin, as if I didn’t already know that. As if I don’t have to live with all of this every single day. He spends two days at my house and thinks he can just come in and give me unsolicited advice on how to live my life.”

“Nevermind that his advice was correct.” Jeno smiled to himself when Renjun shot him a pointed side-eye.

“Parts of it were, but those parts I already knew.” He pushed his hair out of his face with a sigh. “I’m not saying that he was wrong. On a basic level, he was absolutely right. But he has never had to live with this. None of you have.”

“This being?” Jeno asked, and his smile was gentle when Renjun looked over at him.

“You know exactly what I mean by that.” Renjun kicked a pebble this time, and it flew all the way down the hill. “This. Being like this. You can all be glad you don’t have to know what it’s like, because it’s absolute hell. I don’t know where I stand with anyone anymore, I don’t know what people think when they look at me and see all of these bruises and scars. I can’t go out in public with my arms bared, I can’t take my shirt off with anyone else in the room.” He paused for a moment, before he said, “I can’t ever meet someone new without immediately risking losing them.”

“You haven’t suddenly turned into someone else, Jun. You haven’t changed.”

“Except I have.” Renjun looked up at him, and this time, he didn’t look away. “And I just told you to not assume that you know what any of this feels like. Because you don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeno conceded. “But I’m afraid that if you want us to understand, you will have to tell us.”

Renjun swallowed. He knew this, but he felt the notion prickle at his skin. “I’m afraid that I have to do a lot of things. And that’s exactly why this is hell. It’s not only about the way I look now, that’s just the surface of it. I have to figure my life out from the start again. I have to figure my relationships with everyone I already knew back out, even my own bloody family. I’ll have to tell every new person I meet about it. And guess what, Jeno — it’s not fucking easy.

I still haven’t fully come to terms with this myself, and I know that I can’t run away and that I have to care about the people around me, too, but it’s still a lot. Sometimes I don’t know how I’m supposed to handle any of this.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeno said again, and this time he added nothing else.

“It’s not your fault.” Renjun sighed. They had by now reached the bottom of the hill, so he turned to Jeno as they halted. “It’s not anyone’s fault, but you asked me to explain. And that’s at least part of the reason I haven’t faced the Jaemin situation yet. He’s a small piece of happiness and reprieve, even if I hate myself for it.”

Jeno didn’t say anything for a while, but he did reach out his hands and waited for Renjun to take them. When he did, Jeno squeezed them, warmly, gently. Like a warmth to cling to in the middle of the storm in Renjun’s mind.

“I know it’s not my fault, but I’m still sorry,” Jeno said. His skin burnt against Renjun’s. “I hope it will all work out for you. I can’t help you figure it all out, but I can tell you that all of us, we love you. No matter what.”

Renjun swallowed hard. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I love you all, too.”

Jeno hooked him into a hug, warm arms wrapping around his back as he was squished against Jeno’s equally warm chest. His hugs always felt this way, always let him forget about whatever was troubling him. He loved that about Jeno the most: his warmth, and the gentle strength of his arms, and the comfort that came with it when he hugged him.

He might’ve been in love with Jaemin, but he’d always felt at home with all of his friends.

And when Jeno squeezed him one last time, in the same way that he’d already had when they’d been twelve, before he sent him a smile and disapparated, Renjun knew that eventually, it would all be okay.

He had no other choice than to make it be okay.

When he’d climbed the hill back up under the golden light of the setting sun — too lazy to apparate the small distance, and he liked the moment he got for himself — Jaemin was waiting for him out on the porch.

He was wrapped up in Renjun’s favourite blanket, which he had left folded over the back of the couch, and another book was rested in his lap, still open. But he was looking at Renjun’s approaching figure, and the sun painted him golden and his eyes glowed like warm embers when Renjun finally stepped onto the porch with him.

“Hey,” Jaemin said, and his voice sounded almost soft with sleepiness.

“Hey.” Renjun smiled at him and took another step closer. “I think that’s my blanket.”

Jaemin hummed and smiled back as he opened the blanket with one arm, as if to invite Renjun to join him under it, which would lead to him being quite literally snuggled against Jaemin’s side. Instead, Renjun sat down on the other chair, and Jaemin lowered his arm and wrapped the blanket back around himself with an awkward smile.

“Did Jeno want something from you?” he asked to stop the awkward air from spreading.

“Nothing important.” Renjun folded his legs onto the chair with him, and leaned back to let the sun shine into his face, too. It was still warm out, and they had to enjoy that for as long as they could. “I had a bit of an argument with Donghyuck earlier, so he wanted to talk to me about that. Just to make sure that we were okay.”

“Oh.” Jaemin looked down at the book in his lap, without his eyes moving an inch. Renjun’s heart contracted.

He didn’t enjoy lying to Jaemin, as he didn’t enjoy lying to any of his friends. And he knew that he’d never been any good of a liar, and Jaemin could definitely tell that what Renjun had talked about to Jeno had definitely been important.

He didn’t press him, though, and Renjun was grateful for that.

They watched as the sun slowly set in the east, its light turning more orange with every centimeter it moved further below the horizon, and the fresh breeze of a summer night creeping up Renjun’s back.

Jaemin shuffled closer to him, as if searching for his warmth, and Renjun indulged him; he leaned closer, too, and let Jaemin rest his cheek against his shoulder. On a whim, and with a surge of bravery (and stupidity) surging through him, like it sometimes did when he was close to Jaemin like this, he reached out and threaded his fingers through Jaemin’s.

He could hear Jaemin’s breath hitch right under his ear, and it broke his heart only a little.

When he was sure that Jaemin’s gaze was directed elsewhere, he closed his eyes to stop a tear from falling.

Renjun woke up in the middle of the night to a knock on Jaemin’s bedroom window.

It was comfortably warm beneath Jaemin’s comforter and Jaemin was breathing slowly next to him and Renjun had leaned his head against his chest at some point of the night, and it was almost enough to lull him back to sleep when he noticed that one of Jaemin’s hands rested loosely against the side of his neck, spreading warmth down his back.

But the knocking continued incessantly, and eventually he had to push himself up to track its source.

In front of the window, he found his mother’s owl. Not Xiu, the family owl that carried his father’s parcels and had carried all previous letters that Renjun had received from his family, but Keai, his mother’s own owl. She was small, fit right into the curve of Renjun’s palm, and normally she was very calm, but her round eyes looked almost angry.

Renjun opened the window for her, and Keai hobbled inside, stretching out her leg for him to access the letter.

“Why’s mum writing to me in the middle of the night?” Renjun asked quietly, frowning, but Keai only kept staring at him. “Sorry, I have nothing for you right now. Wait, let’s head downstairs.”

Keai happily hopped onto his arm, digging her claws into his flesh, and he took her down into the kitchen, where he filled a bowl with a bit of water and set out some treats he kept in his cabinet for her. A flick of his wand lit up the lantern by the table, and he sat down to open the letter with the tip of his wand.

His mother’s penmanship was a lot messier than usual, hurried and slanting, and he had to squint to read it.

But once he had made it past the first few lines of her asking how he was doing, with no genuine interest for the answer shining through, his heart sank into his stomach, and his eyes flew over the words.

It was everything she hadn’t said in the letter that had reached him the day before, some additional information she had gathered since then, and advice that some of her colleagues that had had to deal with things like this before had given her. Apparently she had stayed in her office until the early morning hours to research what they could do, and arguing with the people in the offices two floors below her. So far, she seemed to have achieved little, though.

 _Don’t worry too much,_ she wrote, _we’ll find a way out of this._ But Renjun’s stomach had never felt this heavy.

He _accio’ed_ himself a piece of parchment and his writing utensils, and started immediately writing back to her. He was sure that she wasn’t at the office anymore. Or at least he hoped so, as the clock told him it was nearing five.

When he was halfway through his letter and his writing hand was shaking, the door behind him creaked open.

“Renjun?” Jaemin barely seemed awake, one hand in his hair and his eyes squinting against the light of the lantern. His face was still red from the warmth inside of his bed. “What are you doing up?”

“Go back to bed, Jaemin.” Renjun tried to be gentle, but even he could hear how frayed his voice sounded.

Jaemin took another step into the room. “Are you okay? Whose owl is that?”

“My mum’s,” Renjun replied curtly, but then he shook his head and sent Jaemin a small smile. “Sorry, I just have to finish this letter quickly and then I’ll come back —” He caught himself before he could say _back to bed._ That sounded too domestic, too much like it was _their_ bed. “It’s kind of important that I do this right now, not tomorrow.”

“It’s already tomorrow,” Jaemin mumbled, dropping down in the chair opposite of him.

Renjun smiled but didn’t reply, and they said nothing for a while. Jaemin watched him as he scribbled away at his letter, and Renjun occasionally looked up to find his eyes still drooping, but alert.

“You can go back to sleep,” he suggested gently after a little while. “You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“Mhm,” Jaemin hummed, but despite his obvious sleepiness, he didn’t move to get up.

Only when Renjun finished the letter and folded it up into an envelope, which he addressed to his mother and bound to Keai’s leg, did he get up. But not to go back upstairs and sleep, but to step behind Renjun as he released Keai through the window. He didn’t touch him, but Renjun could feel his body heat radiate against his back.

“Do you wanna talk about what that was about?” he asked, and really, Renjun would rather die. The pure thought of the letter that now safely rested in his pocket, out of Jaemin’s reach, made him sick to his stomach.

“Boring bureaucracy stuff,” he replied, trying for a smile. “My mum works at the ministry, remember?” He turned around to let Jaemin see his smile and make him worry less, but all he found there was Jaemin already frowning at him. “I swear, it was nothing serious. It was important, but nothing to worry too much about.”

Jaemin nodded slowly, and turned around to walk to the door. Renjun felt cold without him near.

At the door, Jaemin turned around to him again, and his frown had not yet vanished. Still, he was gentle, his voice still hoarse from sleep, when he said, “I don’t know why you’re lying to me, but I’m here if you wanna talk about it.”

Renjun stayed by the window for a few minutes after the kitchen door fell shut behind Jaemin. His heart beat shallowly in his chest, and he felt empty.

Jaemin was warm and quiet when Renjun climbed back into his bed next to him half an hour later.

They said nothing, and Renjun thought Jaemin might’ve been asleep — his eyes were closed and he didn’t move when Renjun lay down next to him — but his hand settled against Renjun’s shoulder, finally.

The silence was thick, so thick Renjun almost felt like he choked on it, but it was still warm under Jaemin’s comforter, and Jaemin didn’t inch away from him. He had his hand right where it had been when Renjun had woken up, and when Renjun let his eyes fall shut, Jaemin held him close ever so slightly. A silent sign that he wasn’t mad.

Just before Renjun drifted off, he whispered, “I’m sorry,” but he wasn’t sure if Jaemin had heard him anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave me a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed. I will see you on Wednesday :^D


	11. eleven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry this chapter comes a day late, I completely forgot to update yesterday because I was so swamped with work and school. But here we go with what may be one of my least favorite chapters in this fic. I hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> Warnings: talk of legal discrimination

London’s streets were always busy, and under the glow of the summer sun, they brimmed with life.

They had made a stop in Diagon Alley, just to pop into Renjun’s family’s house and say Hi to Chenle, who had been lazing around in the living room with the cat sprawled on his tummy, and Guanheng, who had been keeping the shop downstairs while their parents were gone. He’d looked nervous, but he’d let Renjun hug him, which was always good.

Diagon Alley had taken them a little more time as Renjun had wanted to stop at the Apothecary, too, so he could pick up some ingredients he’d need for his medical potions, as well as some stuff he couldn’t brew himself.

But now they were winding their way through the masses of jolly muggle families and travel groups that milled about.

In all truth, Renjun had just been trying to waste as much time as he could afford in Diagon Alley, so he could pretend that what was about to happen wasn’t real for a while longer. And that it didn’t scare him, that he wasn’t constantly thinking about what would happen if his mother didn’t manage, and that he was confident it would work out.

Jaemin trailed a step behind him, and he was who Renjun wanted to convince the most that everything was fine. He still had no idea — he knew where they were going, but not why, or what would happen there.

They turned off of the lively main street, dodged a mother with a little girl hanging off her coat, and hurried down the sidewalk of the dingy street. Even the sun appeared more muted here, tinging the concrete of the street and the office building that stood tall at their sides a dull grey. The only thing standing out was the bright red telephone box at the end.

It was a bit of a squeeze, fitting both him and Jaemin into it, but they managed and Renjun dialed in the number.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your names and your business.” The voice came seemingly out of nowhere, and Jaemin, who had never been to the ministry, flinched against Renjun’s shoulder.

“Renjun Huang and Jaemin Na,” Renjun answered for the both of them. “We’re here for an appointment with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, as well as an audience with Mrs. Yaxian Qiao.”

A moment passed before two silver badges with their names clattered into the holder.

Renjun pinned his to his chest and handed Jaemin the other to do the same. “Hold on tight,” he said, offering Jaemin his arm when a small beeping sound came from the same place as the voice had — the surrounding air.

Jaemin gave him a confused look, but wrapped his hand around Renjun’s arm all the same. And not a second too early, because the moment that he grabbed his arm, the floor beneath them seemed to give out. It didn’t really, of course, but Jaemin let out a startled shriek as the phone box plunged into the earth like a lift of death.

It came to a screeching halt in the Atrium after about a minute, and the doors rattled open.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic,” the voice said again. “Remember to check in your wands at the front desk.”

Jaemin said nothing until after they had crossed the long hall of the Atrium, past the long rows of fireplaces that ministry workers were appearing from and disappearing in at minute intervals, and had handed their wands to the tall wizard behind the security desk next to the golden gates that led to the lifts.

They were scanned, had their wands scanned, measured and weighed, before they were handed back to them and the gates flew open and the watchwizard waved them through, and picked his newspaper back up.

Only when they had passed the gates did Jaemin speak up, “What exactly are we here for?”

“You’ll see.” Renjun tried to send him a smile before he slid them into one of the lifts, alongside a tall witch in the plum-coloured robes of a Wizengamot member. He kept his head lowered to avoid any curious glances she might throw.

The lift took them upwards, a lot slower than the phone box lift had let them plunge down, and only stopped once to let another plum-clad wizard in on the fifth level. They all get out together on the second.

“Where are we going?” Jaemin asked as they trailed behind the two ministry workers down the long corridor.

“My mum’s office.” Renjun took down the corridor in long strides, so much that even Jaemin, who easily had a few inches of leg length on him, had to speed to keep up with him. He remembered the last time he’d been in his mother’s office only swimmingly, as he had been high on pain potions, and barely able to walk on his own, but he found the door with her name on it with ease, halfway through the corridor, and he knocked against the dark wood almost delicately.

It swung open to reveal his father, still in his work robes and with his hair slightly unkempt and worry lines on his forehead. As soon as he spotted Renjun, though, he tried to smooth out his expression, and reached out for him.

“Renjun, thank Merlin you’re here.” He grasped him by the shoulders and pulled him against his chest.

His mother was seated at her desk in the middle of the room, already in her Wizengamot attire. She had her hands folded on the desk, and she looked worried despite the smile she offered Renjun when he stepped further into the room.

“Jaemin.” She seemed surprised, but she greeted him with a nod. “We didn’t know you were coming.”

“He insisted,” Renjun explained, as he led Jaemin to one of the chairs in front of his mother’s desk. Jaemin didn’t seem to mind being talked about, and he smiled at Renjun’s father when he sat down next to him.

“Does he know what you’re here for?” his mother asked, before she turned to Jaemin himself. “Do you, Jaemin?”

“Not exactly.” He shook his head. “Renjun made some vague allusions on our way here, but he wouldn’t say exactly why he had to be here. Judging from his mood, though, I don’t suppose it’s anything good.”

Renjun’s mother smiled to herself, joylessly. “You’re right about that. It’s the opposite of good.” She turned back to Renjun, then, and pulled a stack of papers out of a drawer in her desk. “I did some extensive research about the rights of magical creatures and people who got to keep their position in the past. They won’t be kind once you get in there, especially since I’ve tried to talk them out of it for several days now. I know the head of the Beast Division, he’s a jackass. Every person who walks in there comes out arguing, so I hope that these will at least help you with that.”

She slides the papers across the desk, and Renjun skimmed over them. His mother’s penmanship was mostly straight and orderly, like she’d been trying to keep her calm like the day she’d written to him about Kun years ago. But there were times where it got messy, likely when she’d been in the office until the early morning to help him.

“There are magical creatures that _want_ to be classified as beasts,” his mother explained. “It brings them certain advantages, but that’s not the case for you, so I focussed on people who tried to get out of that registry.”

“Did anyone ever succeed with that?” Renjun hated the way his voice shook.

He also hated the way his mother looked at him, with so much pity in her gaze. “Of course,” she said softly, before she regained her calm manner. “Of course there have been people who succeeded. I listed all of their arguments, too.”

“It will all be fine,” his father reassured him, and his voice was so deep and warm and comforting. It reminded Renjun of all the times he had been scared of the ghosts and monsters in his closet when he was a child, and his father had come to sit him in his lap in the middle of the night, and had talked to him until he’d calmed down. In that moment, he landed a heavy hand on Renjun’s shoulder, and squeezed. “Your mother has done everything she could to pull the strings in your favour, and all you have to do is go in there and tell that man all that she wrote in those papers.”

Renjun nodded, if only so he could lower his head and hide his worried frown. He knew that his mother was nothing if not thorough, especially when she wanted to prove something. And she surely had never wanted to prove a thing more.

Still, fear had already settled deep in his bones. “What happens if it doesn’t work?”

His father opened his mouth, likely to tell him that it would, but his mother cut him off. “Then we will simply not stop fighting until it does,” she said. “All of this is legal work, and for as long as I insist, the case will not to be closed. I went to school for this, if need be, I can drag this debate out for years, and they can’t force you to do anything until then.”

Her eyes were sharp and steady when Renjun looked at her. They only shook when she smiled at him.

“Your father is right,” she continued. “It will all be fine. You’re damned lucky to have me as your mum, because I’m stubborn, and everyone knows me to be, and I will always argue in your favour. If the Beast Division people and especially Mr. Kyung himself think they can do _anything_ to my son, they’re dead wrong.”

Renjun smiled, and even he could tell how much it shook. “Thank you, mum,” he whispered.

She smiled back at him so warmly, and his father’s hand squeezed his shoulder a little bit harder.

“You’ll be okay, Junjun,” his father said. He was mirroring his wife’s smile when Renjun looked up at him. “Mum and I will be waiting for you here when you’re done. We won’t let anyone hurt you, and especially not those people.”

The way back up the corridor to the lift that would take them down two levels felt longer this time around. Jaemin stayed half a step behind him, almost glued to Renjun’s shoulder, and Renjun’s heart felt heavy in his chest.

Jaemin had yet to ask what they were here for, or what all of that cryptic talk had been. He knew they were headed down to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, which was located on Level Four, and even that they were to speak to someone from the Beast Division, so he could likely piece together what was going to be talked about, but he had yet to ask what exactly was the problem.

Apparently, though, he didn’t need to. His voice was small and almost shook when, as they waited for the lift to pull up to the second level, he asked, “What would being registered as a beast mean for you?”

Renjun swallowed, but he didn’t answer until they had stepped into the lift, and they were alone. Too many members of the Wizengamot swarmed the floors of the second level, and not everyone needs to know what his mother had been spending her time doing the weeks before. He pressed the button for Level Four, and leaned against the wall of the lift.

“I would lose my status as a wizard,” he mumbled, and he didn’t look at Jaemin. He stared at the doors of the lift, scared they would open again and let everyone hear. “They’d take my wand away, and my Hogwarts diploma.”

“Why would they let you finish Hogwarts only to take your diploma away a couple weeks later?”

Renjun shrugged. “According to my mum, who attends Hogwarts is mostly Professor Kwon’s decision. The ministry has never really been allowed to mingle with that, only in very extreme cases. Like, if a student killed another student. Since I didn’t do that and there were measures put into place to keep me from doing that, I wasn’t an extreme enough case. But they do get to decide if I get to keep that diploma I got to finish once I am no longer classified as a wizard.”

“What would registering you as a beast and restricting you like that bring? Like, what’s the advantage here?”

“They think werewolves are a danger to society,” Renjun mumbled. “I could use magic to hurt someone, technically.”

“Well, everyone could.” Jaemin was frowning so hard now, Renjun could almost feel it vibrating through the air between them. “What a load of complete tosh. Everyone could hurt someone else using magic. I could put an Unforgivable on you right here, but they aren’t taking _my_ wand away, are they?”

Renjun chuckled humorlessly. “Well, they certainly would if you did that.” He still didn’t look over at Jaemin, but he found a shimmer of his reflection, broken up by the gaps in the golden grate that is the lift door. “They take people’s wands away when they’re guilty of a violent crime. My violent crime is that someone turned me into a werewolf.”

“That’s bollocks, Renjun.” He could feel Jaemin staring at him from the side as the lift came to a halt.

“I know it is, which is why I’m here to argue with them about it.” He sighed, and made sure that they were alone when they stepped out of the lift before he continued, “Most of the people in the ministry are stuck up swines. During the trial for the boy who bit me I had to argue with the Chief Warlock of all people, because he called werewolves cruel beasts. One would assume that someone in that high of a position would be able to stay at least somewhat impartial.”

They made their way down the corridor to the right, through an elaborately decorated gate with the words _Beast Division_ spelled out by winding silver spirals. The portrait of an elderly witch greeted them from next to it.

In the room at the end of the corridor, from which several doors led into the surrounding offices, a witch in green robes and an enormous hat welcomed them. She noted down Renjun’s name on a scroll behind her desk and led them through one of the doors into an adjacent corridor. A sign next to the door read _Werewolf Registry._

Renjun felt his stomach swoop as he hurried after the lady until they stopped at a group of chairs in front of a door.

“Mr. Kyung is currently still in a meeting with some merpeople, but you boys take a seat here and he will join you in just a bit,” she said. “Do you need anything in the meantime? Something to read? Some tea?”

“No thank you, Madam.” Renjun gave her a smile, and she hurried off with a nod.

Silence fell over the corridor when her steps faded out and the door fell shut. Renjun finally allowed himself to look at Jaemin, and he found him looking down at his hand, fiddling with the seam of his pants. He caught Renjun staring, too, looked up after a couple of seconds and smoothed over his pants and smiled at Renjun. It was a shaky smile, as if he wasn’t sure about it, and Renjun supposed he understood that. Was it appropriate to smile at a time like this?

But Jaemin reached out for him, and Renjun hadn’t realized how hard his hands were shaking until Jaemin ran the tips of his fingers over his knuckles, like he was asking for permission to hold his hand.

Renjun granted it, turned his palm around and spread his fingers wide until Jaemin threaded his own between them. His hand was warm and strong, and Renjun’s heart felt heavy because he knew he shouldn’t be indulging in this. He shouldn’t let Jaemin hold his hand to steady him, he should have pulled away and sat a little farther from him.

But he hadn’t, and he wasn’t planning on moving away, even though he almost felt sick with guilt. The warmth of Jaemin’s palm, pressed tightly against his own, spread up his arm, and it was almost enough to level it out.

“You’ll be all right,” Jaemin breathed. “I can’t imagine how scary this must be, but I’m sure your mother has done some incredible work, and I know you’re good with words. You’ll be able to convince them, and even if you don’t, you heard your mother. No one will be able to hurt you for as long as she keeps fighting for you, and that will be forever.”

Renjun nodded, and he knew that the smile he sent Jaemin was shaky still, but it wasn’t as forced. He knew that his parents wouldn’t let him down, and he trusted Jaemin. His heart slowed down its panicked pounding a small bit.

“Do you want to go over your mother’s notes again? Just to be sure?”

Renjun did, even though Jaemin’s cheek pressed against his shoulder as he read through the notes with him made it hard to focus. His hand shook again as he turned the page, and Jaemin stroked his wrist with the back of his finger.

They flinched apart when the door at the end of the corridor opened again.

His mother leaned over her desk, and her facade broke for real this time when she landed a big kiss on Renjun’s forehead. “I knew it would work out,” she said, grasping both sides of his head and ruffling his hair.

He offered her a small smile, but then he said, “It didn’t _work out,_ mum. They let me go, but they aren’t on my side. They might come back in a couple of months to try again, I could tell from the look on that man’s face that they will not give up until, if they get their way, I’m safely locked away in a cell in Azkaban.”

“No one wants you to go to Azkaban.” His mother shook her head. “That’s not a place for a werewolf. It’s not safe.”

“How is Azkaban not safe?” Renjun raised one eyebrow, and his mother shrugged before she sat back down.

“It would be safe to keep you locked away from society, but they are very adamant about not implementing the immediate death sentence, and even the Dementor’s Kiss is a rare sentence that not even mass murderers receive. Locking a werewolf into a cell in Azkaban would be an immediate death sentence for all inmates on a full moon night.”

Renjun inclined his head. She was right about that, of course she was.

“Well, maybe not that, then. But this fight isn’t won yet. Just like we were not going to give up, they aren’t, either.”

“Well, they can try,” his father contributed from the side. He was sipping on a cup of tea, and he had finally changed out of his work robes. “We already told you that no matter how hard they try, we won’t give in. That applies here, too.”

Renjun sunk deeper into the chair, and he looked back to where Jaemin was leaning in the door. “Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank us for,” his mother said. “This is my job, both as a lawyer and as your mother. What they are trying to do is unlawful, so I have to stop them from trying to do so, anyway. And I’m also responsible for protecting you.”

They said goodbye only a short while after that, and Renjun let himself be hugged and kissed by both of his parents. His father’s hug was warm and strong, and he reassured him again that no matter what was to come, they would always be on his side, and they would not stop fighting until he could live as much of a normal life as was possible.

His mother’s hug was just as strong, but she was shorter than him by a lot, now, and she tucked her chin over his shoulder with intent. Just as he was about to pull away, she whispered, “I will never, ever let anyone hurt you again.”

He had to blink his burning eyes on his way out, Jaemin glued to his shoulder once again. A hand brushed over his arm, and he took Jaemin’s hand in his own, just to have something to hold onto as they boarded the lift again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave a kudos or a comment if you did! I'll see you on Sunday


	12. twelve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> Two thirds of this fic are now up!! Wahh this is so exciting!! There will be a lot of development in the coming last third, I hope you're excited!  
> In this chapter we will meet a character again that hasn't been there in a while :^)
> 
> Warnings: talk of traumatizing events, revisiting the night + site of the happenings, talk of coping

Renjun was reading a book out on the porch, the buzz of Jaemin clattering around in the kitchen at the back of his mind, when a figure in a long cloak appeared on the path up the hill. Renjun blinked, wondering if they had been walking up and he hadn’t noticed them for the few minutes that they must’ve been in view, or if they had just apparated right here.

Before he had time to reach a conclusion — they _must_ have apparated there, he wasn’t that blind yet — though, the figure was already close enough for him to recognize them, and they brushed their hood back to reveal their face —

“Elkie.” He pushed up out of his chair to approach her and meet her in front of the porch. Behind him, the sound of movements ceased in the kitchen as Jaemin looked after him. “What are you doing here?”

She smiled, and the first thing he realized looking at her face up close was how much better she looked than the last time he’d seen her, which had been that day in court three months ago. Her cheeks had filled back up and regained their colour, and her eyes were less dull and sunken. She looked like she’d been getting healthy amounts of sleep again.

“I just wanted to visit my favorite cousin.” A grin spread on her face the same way she spread her arms to wrap him in a big hug. Renjun indulged her. “Come and see how you’re holding up out here for myself. How are you doing?”

“Well, things have been different.” He laughed a little, and he was relieved to not see her smile fall. “But I’m dealing with it, I’ve been making it work. Being out here has definitely helped me keep my peace.”

She nodded and hooked her arm under his as they walked back towards the house. “I’m so glad.”

“But how are you doing?” he reflected the question back at her. “You didn’t look so good the last time I saw you, and I’m sure you’ve also been through a lot these past few months.”

Elkie shrugged and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Well, I have, but I’m sure it wasn’t half as bad as what you’ve been through. It was a lot to unpack, what I saw that night and what it did to me. I had nightmares for a few weeks, but I wasn’t alone and I’ve gotten a lot of help in trying to process it and heal.”

Renjun felt his heart sink, and he led her up onto the porch and through the door into the kitchen in silence. Jaemin had picked up the dough he had been mixing for a new batch of biscuits up again, but he turned around when they entered.

“Oh?” Elkie turned to Renjun, a grin sneaking on her face. “Here I was thinking you were out on here all on your own.”

Heat spread in Renjun’s cheeks in the form of a tiny blush, but Jaemin’s smile only widened.

“I’m Jaemin.” He held out his hand for Elkie to take, a very muggle gesture, but she responded to it right away. “Renjun and I are friends from school. I’m just here to help him out a little.”

“That’s very nice of you.” Her voice was almost delicate. “Support is very important for people who are struggling.”

Jaemin blinked at her in surprise, but then a smile spread on her face again and she squeezed his hand and he seemed to loosen up again. “I’m Elkie, I’m Renjun’s favorite cousin and I’m here to check how he’s been doing. But as I can see, he must have been doing _very_ well.” She wiggled her eyebrows until Renjun elbowed her in the side.

“Would you like me to show you around the house?” he suggested hastily, clearing his throat.

“Sure.” From the corner of his eye, Renjun could see her throw Jaemin one last wink, and he was quick to pull her out of the kitchen by her arm. She diffused into a fit of giggles as they climbed the stairs to the first floor.

“Could you be any more embarrassing?” he grumbled as he led her down the corridor, along the rows of doors..

“Easily.” She grinned at him, running a hand through her hair. “Don’t challenge me, that won’t end well for you.”

There was, of course, no actual need to show her around, as she had grown up in this house for almost as long as he had. He was grateful that she had agreed, anyway, because he had only wanted to get her away from Jaemin before she could’ve embarrassed him more. She threw open the door to the room she usually stayed in and let her bag drop to the floor next to the bed. A flick of her wand cleaned the room of all the dust that had collected on the surfaces since Renjun had lifted the housekeeping charms that had been in place while he and his family had been away.

“So.” She turned around to him again, a grin taking over her face as she raised her eyebrows to look him up and down. Her eyes flashed with a particular kind of mirth. “Jaemin, hm? I feel like I’ve heard that name before.”

“Yes, because he’s my friend. Has been since I was eleven, I’m sure I’ve talked about him before.”

“Mhm.” Elkie sat down on her bed and her grin only broadened. This was exactly the expression she had always sported when they had been children and she’d wanted to talk him into doing something stupid, something that his parents would tell him not to do. Elkie had always had a talent for tickling him in the right spots. “Specifically, when we were all here and grandma asked about him, and Chenle very obviously giggled about the two of you.”

Renjun pressed his lips into a line. He didn’t exactly feel like talking about this with everyone who came to the house, though he supposed that Jaemin’s presence here was an obvious topic of interest for most.

“Chenle makes fun of me for everything, you know that,” he tried to evade the topic. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Ah, yes. I guess that’s also why he lives with you in your romantic family mansion out on the countryside and bakes biscuits in your kitchen while you sit out on the porch in the sun reading a book like you’ve been married for fifty years.”

Renjun groaned and turned away from her. “This really isn’t what you think it is.”

Elkie raised an eyebrow, almost judgmental, but her eyes sparked with amusement. “So he’s not your boyfriend?”

“He’s not,” Renjun said firmly. At least that he could be sure of. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his cardigan to stop them from shaking. That was the last thing he wanted Elkie to see. “And he never will be. This is not … it’s not a thing.”

She blinked at him in confusion, but thankfully, she dropped the topic for the time being when she noticed his expression. Instead, she took to tapping her wand against the top of her bag and watching as her things bursted out of it and floated around the room to find places to settle in. Renjun frowned at the amounts of clothes she’d brought.

“Not to sound rude, but for how long are you planning on staying?” he asked.

Elkie looked back to him, and a grin took over her face again. “Well, now, that did sound a bit rude.” But there was no bite in her voice, and she threw him a wink. “Don’t worry, son, I’m only staying for a day or two, if that’s fine with you. I’m doing quite a bit of travelling now that I have some time off, and you’re only my second of many stops.”

“Oh? Not even the honour of being first you can grant me? After all we’ve been through together?”

The last few words slipped past his lips before he could stop them to think about it, and he felt himself freeze as he waited for Elkie to respond. She only laughed, though, and Renjun’s muscles relaxed again.

“Sorry, I promise there’s only one person in the world more important to me than you.” She winked at him again, but he noticed the rosy blush that rushed over her cheeks. She didn’t elaborate, and Renjun decided not to be a hypocrite and press on about whatever part of her love life, when he had just refused to tell her about his own.

The aftershocks of that conversation lingered in him, though, when he left her alone in her room to relax — she’d always said that apparating made her tired, and he’d seen her eyes droop — and descended the main stairs to join Jaemin in the kitchen or sit out on the porch again. It sat heavy in his stomach, how fast she had picked up on the clues. If she had been able to see it after a couple of minutes, how well aware must Jaemin have been of it by then?

He tried not to think about it, and put on a smile when he entered the kitchen and Jaemin turned around to him — but it was hard. When Jaemin smiled back at him like that and he felt his stomach swoop and he had to hurry outside to hide the blush that crept into his cheeks. How many times had Jaemin seen him blush, or heard his heart speed up? How many times had he glanced at Jaemin from the side, just to get a look at him, and how many times had Jaemin caught him in doing so? How many nights had they spent sleeping next to each other, barely touching, but so, so close?

And even before they’d come here, how many times had they walked to Hogsmeade together with their hands brushing between their bodies? How many nights had they spent in the library together, studying and writing essays until Jaemin’s head had dropped against Renjun’s shoulder like a deadweight? How many times had Jaemin brought him lunch, or dinner, how many walks had they taken around the lake, just the two of them, sharing thoughts?

Jaemin stayed in the kitchen even if there was nothing to do, the smell of the biscuits in the oven slowly filling the air, as if he sensed that Renjun needed space. He’d always been good at that, too. Knowing everything about Renjun.

Renjun sat outside and picked his book back up, and tried to forget about it, just for now. He would have to talk to Jaemin at some point, he knew that, even if he and Donghyuck had fought about it. Jaemin wouldn’t simply leave, not for a flippant reason or his own desires, not unless Renjun explicitly told him that he didn’t want this to continue.

 _This._ Not that there was much of it. They weren’t doing anything. He hadn’t lied to Elkie or Donghyuck about that. It was nothing more than an awkward disposition of two people who may or may not have had feelings for each other, but neither did anything about it for fear that the other might not actually feel that way.

Another reason for why Renjun hadn’t yet brought the topic of ending it up to Jaemin — what if, for Jaemin, there was nothing to end? What if he would laugh at him, what if he was delusional to believe that Jaemin felt that way about him?

It was a flippant reason, one that a shy schoolboy with a crush would name. _What if he laughs at me?_

Renjun was an adult now, and he’d known Jaemin for most of his formative youth. He had more important things to worry about than his best friend laughing at him now, and not only because he was an adult. Maybe thinking about love alone was childish, and not appropriate for the situation he was in. He should worry about the date of the next full moon and stitching himself back together, and how he would do that once he was finally on his own.

But was he not allowed to? And was he not allowed to lose himself in considering the flippant, the unimportant, was he not allowed to be a little bit childish? Being so serious all the time was tiring, and it made him feel so old.

He was only eighteen. He had just _turned_ eighteen a little over a week before he’d been attacked. Other people his age were falling in love and worrying about the _Does he love me, does he love me not_ spiel. And here he was, worrying that he was wasting time with it, time that he should’ve spent — doing what, exactly? Grovelling? Worrying?

He was tired, and he felt like he was nearing forty instead of twenty. His body ached, and his mind kept him awake at night. And yet, his heart threatened to spring out of his chest like a schoolboy’s whenever he looked at Jaemin’s smile.

If only he wasn’t so, so tired.

When he blinked his eyes back open, he was spread out on the sofa, and someone had placed his blanket on him.

The air really smelled like biscuits, now, with an underlying note of tea. He pushed himself up on his elbows, and a glance out of the window showed him that it was raining, water coming down onto the fields in thick heaves. Elkie sat curled up in an armchair to his right, sipping on a cup of tea. The biscuits were set out on a plate on the table.

“Ah, he wakes.” Elkie smiled at him, and her eyes sparkled in that particular way again. “Just in time for tea. Come on, have a biscuit, lover boy put so much effort into them, just for you. I hope he’s not mad I’ve been eating them.”

“Jaemin doesn’t get mad,” Renjun mumbled, swinging his legs to the ground and completely glossing over what she’d called Jaemin so as to not give her more surface to tease him on. Some things were best left ignored. Instead, he took a biscuit off the plate and flicked his wand to make the kettle in the kitchen pour him a cup of tea, too.

“How very sweet of him.” Elkie raised an eyebrow, and the smile she sported was more calculating now. “He does strike me as the sweet type. With how he carried you inside to protect you from the rain, and all.”

Renjun felt himself lock up, hand with the biscuit freezing in the air midway to his face. But he was quick to dispute her, before his face had the chance to grow red. “I’m sure he didn’t _carry_ me,” he scoffed. “He’s a wizard, he has the means.”

Elkie cocked her head to the side and hummed. “Yes, but he’s also a muggleborn, and I feel he frequently forgets about the fact that he can use magic for mundane tasks. Or maybe he … conveniently forgets? I wasn’t sure if he maybe didn’t want to remember, so I didn’t remind him.”

Renjun’s cheeks burnt hot with embarrassment, and he tried to drown it in a sip of the cup that floated into his hands.

“Where is he, anyway?” he asked around a crumbling biscuit between his teeth.

“Out in town to do some shopping.” Elkie leaned back in her chair, which was normally a sign that she was done with teasing him. Renjun breathed out in relief. “I think he mentioned something about making dinner, and if these biscuits are any indication of his cooking skill, then I sure am excited about that. I miss mum’s cooking so much.”

Renjun frowned. “How long have you been away from home?”

A blush took over her face again, and she looked away. Renjun raised an eyebrow, this time.

“Not long,” she mumbled, but she kept her eyes firmly set on the cup in her hands. “I visited a friend from school for two weeks before I came here, so it really hasn’t been that long. I just miss mum in general.”

“Ah.” Renjun smiled into his cup and looked up at her. “A friend from school, hm? How familiar.”

Elkie’s laugh rang around the living room. “Touché,” she said, taking another biscuit just as a loud _pop!_ sounded from the kitchen, announcing Jaemin’s return. Elkie hummed and wiggled her eyebrows at Renjun. “Speaking of the devil.”

After dinner, which was mostly spent with Renjun trying to prevent Elkie from further embarrassing him in front of Jaemin — an attempt that largely failed, and by the end of it, Elkie and Jaemin were laughing next to him while he could feel his face burn up — Renjun took Elkie for a walk around the gardens while Jaemin stayed in the house to write to his parents.

The rain had eased up halfway through their meal, and by the time they stepped outside in their coats and boots, much like they had done a few months ago, the golden evening sun was shining softly over the fields.

Elkie hadn’t been here since the day it had happened. The rest of the family had stayed while Renjun had been in the hospital — although the mood had been rather off, according to Guanheng — but Elkie had left immediately.

She’d been in the hospital, too, but only for a couple of hours so the healers could make sure she had suffered no injuries and check up on her mental state. She had visited him a few days after he’d woken up, and between her tears she had somehow managed to tell him that she hadn’t been able to go back to the house with their family because it’d hurt too much, and that she had been staying with a friend instead until her parents would come home.

As they made their way down the winding path, she put on a brave front. She laughed into his face and jabbed his side with her elbow in a joke, all to distract from the shaking of her eyes. Renjun noticed it anyway.

“We can go back anytime you want,” he said when she finally gave up on trying to mask her feelings, and he led her gently towards the thick bushes at the very back of the estate. “I get it. It was hard for me, too, the first time.”

“I don’t understand how you’re so much better at this than me.” Her legs shook just slightly when she stepped over a branch on the ground. “Nothing even happened to me, and yet you’re being so brave, while I can’t even do this.”

Renjun shook his head. “People deal with things differently, Elkie.” The particular line of bushes where it had happened came into view, and, as opposed to her words, he felt his stomach swoop. “Besides, I didn’t have to see it. I lost consciousness so early on that I still barely remember what happened. I only know where it bit me because of the wound there, but I have no memory of that happening. You had to _see_ it, that’s a completely different perspective.”

She fell quiet as they took the last few steps between the bushes, and the gap between the shrubs came blindingly into view. The bushes had begun to grow back, aching to conceal it, but the spot was still obvious.

The rain had washed away all other traces of the event, had made the ground soften up enough to erase the claw marks and the dent of Renjun’s body in the soil. The greatest trace of it was Renjun, as he stood where he had stood just three months ago, covered in scars he had gotten that night and every full moon night since then.

Elkie was still trembling beside him, but it was hard for him, too, no matter how strong he came off. He’d always been good at fooling people into thinking things were alright. His hands shook, too, and he hid them.

“Do you want to go back?” he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. “It’s getting a little chilly, don’t you think?”

She looked up at him, and as if she could read his mind, she refrained from commenting on the fact that the sun still warmed the air up quite a bit, and just threaded her arm through his and led him back up the path to the house.

“Does it get easier to go there?” she asked when they had stepped into the glow of the lantern on the porch again.

Renjun looked back over his shoulder, his eyes flitting over the loose line of trees and the bushes in between them, and he smiled to himself, joylessly. Only when they were taking their coats off inside the house did he look at her again and say, “I’ll tell you when it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave me a comment or a kudos if you did !!


	13. thirteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed another Wednesday, I'm sorry, they are such busy days for me now and I received some very devastating news yesterday, so I was not really in the mood to update.
> 
> But here we go today! With a chapter that I think is one of the most important ones!! :^D
> 
> Warnings: I don't think there are any this time

He watched as the powder he had drizzled over the flames turned them green and bit into the wood. The address he had received in the letter was in a language he didn’t know, and he could only hope he didn’t butcher the pronunciation too much when he whispered it into the flames and dunked his head into them. He wasn’t exactly keen on spending his Friday night with his head poking out of a stranger’s fireplace on the other side of the world.

Jaemin had passed out on the sofa behind him, so he’d tried to be as quiet as possible with the floo powder.

Lucky for him, he didn’t have to call out to figure out where he had landed. Mark was crouched in front of the fireplace, still in his pyjamas and with sleep in his eyes and his hair standing up off his head.

“Hi,” he whispered, and his voice came out raspy. “I don’t know how long I have until the teacher wakes up, this is the first time I’ve ever been awake before him. I’m sure we have to be quick, though, I’ll have to get to work as soon as he does wake up, and he doesn’t like when I slack off, especially to do personal stuff.”

Renjun nodded. “Are you okay, though?” he asked. “Is everyone nice to you there?”

Mark laughed a little. “Of course. Everyone is super nice, I’ve seriously never been anywhere where the people are this nice. They’re super welcoming, and I mean, I love what I’m doing, so it’s really fun to be learning so much.”

“I’m glad.” Renjun smiled. “Do you have any idea when you’ll be coming home yet?”

“Well, I hope to be home as soon as possible. I love it here, but I miss everyone so much.” He laughed again. “And I do have a job, I mean. I have to be back before summer ends, but really, I hope to be back in like, two weeks? Maybe.”

“Will you be done learning by then, though?”

Yet another laugh pushed past Mark’s lips. “I don’t think I will ever be done learning. Potions are so fascinating, there are so many layers to them, and most important of all, there is so much more that can be done with them than we are doing right now. The people here are already so much more advanced with them than we are, but the teacher says they still aren’t using them to their full extent. Professor Moon has been teaching Potions for decades, and he still comes here every other year to learn from them. It’s really insane what they do with them, and I thought _I_ was good …”

Renjun smiled to himself as Mark rambled on about the uses of potions if only wizarding society paid them more attention past their usual uses — “If you think about it, how insane is it that we _don’t_ use the Veritaserum as an option in court when we literally have it at our disposal? Are we stupid?” — and just let him, because he’d missed his voice.

Finally, though, Mark seemed to realize that Renjun had said little, and brought his speech to an end. “What about you, though?” he asked. “I’m sorry I haven’t been writing much, but I got your letters. Have you been well?”

Renjun shrugged. “Yes, I suppose so. I’ve been trying to deal with everything, and, well, it could always be worse.”

Mark stayed silent for a moment, and Renjun was about to feel bad for ruining the mood when he looked up again and asked, “Is — is Jaemin still there with you?”

Renjun quietly cleared his throat. “Yes. He’s actually asleep right behind me, so I can’t be too loud.”

Mark’s expression was unreadable, and Renjun tried not to feel too queasy about it. Eventually, though, Mark finally looked away from his face and down to his own fiddling hands. “How’s that going?” he asked.

“There’s nothing to be _going_ ,” Renjun said gently. “He’s here to help me, at least for the first few times.”

Mark fell quiet again, chewing on his lower lip, something he had always done when he was nervous, and a habit Renjun had already picked up when they were children. “So he’s … is he leaving? At the end of summer?”

“I hope so.” He didn’t mean for it to come out so coldly, but it still did. “If he doesn’t do so on his own, then I will have to tell him to. I don’t … I just don’t have the time, or the space in my life for … for this. Not anymore.”

“It seems to be working out quite well so far. How long has it been? Two weeks?”

“A little more. But spending three weeks with someone while neither of you work and you mooch all of your money off your parents and you spend the entire day lying around in the house or under the sun outside is not reality, though. All of this will end soon enough, and then this will not be a life that either of us will want to live. He can get away from it, though. And I say that as long as he can get away from something that will undoubtedly hurt him, he should. He _has to.”_

“You can’t get away from it, though,” Mark mumbled.

“That’s exactly my point. I can’t get away from this myself, but I can at least make sure that the people I love can.” When Mark fell quiet again and looked down at his feet, he added, “I’m sorry. That ruined the mood.”

“No, no,” Mark hurried to say. “You’re absolutely fine. You sounded like you needed to talk to someone about it.”

Only when he said that did Renjun realize he was right. He had needed to talk about it, because the last time he had had been with Donghyuck a week ago, and they had fought about it so bitterly. And when Jeno had turned to talk to him about it afterwards, too — he hadn’t realized it back then, but now he saw that even back then, he had missed Mark. He had needed Mark, as someone who would listen to him and take his concerns seriously, without judging, without fighting.

“I miss you,” he choked out before he could stop himself, and he hated how whiny he sounded.

He also hated the look of pity Mark gave him, even if it was a different kind of pity as the one he had seen in Mark’s eyes the day he had told him about what had happened to him. “I’ll be back soon,” Mark promised.

That, at least, offered Renjun some kind of comfort. He clung to it.

Something clanged against the floor in the house behind Mark, and he turned around to look over his shoulder. In the hallway Renjun could see over the edge of the sofa, a light turned on, and Mark hurried to sit up.

“The teacher’s awake,” he whispered sharply. “I have to go now, but I promise I’ll come home soon.”

Renjun nodded. “Right. I’ll see you soon, then.”

He reached out for his wand to extinguish the fire, but before he could, Mark spoke up again. “Renjun? Love you.”

Renjun smiled, and the warmth that spread within was surely not only because of the fire. “Love you, too.”

The room was left dark when the fire went out, but he still felt warm as he brushed the soot off his cheeks.

Living with Jaemin had become so easy, and it had barely been three weeks since he’d shown up on his doorstep.

Renjun supposed that it was because they had always been friends, they were already so accustomed to spending too much time around each other; they weren’t bothered by each other and they worked well together. He tried to ignore that living with someone all the time differed completely from just being friends, and that friends didn’t sleep in one bed together every night. Friends didn’t carry each other inside when it rained. Friends didn’t do _this._

At least not in Renjun’s world, because according to Jaemin, this was a normal activity between friends for muggles.

“Where did you even learn how to handle this thing?” Renjun asked, pushing himself firmly back into the cushion of the seat Jaemin had placed him in. Lights flashed past outside the window, and the engine roared under his bottom.

Jaemin sat in the other seat, relaxed, with one hand loosely wrapped around the wheel he used to steer the car into whatever direction he needed it to go. He laughed at Renjun’s question. “I got my license last summer, when I turned seventeen. It was a bit of stress to cram it all into the summer holidays, but we made it work.”

Renjun could see that, his hand cramping around the handle that was conveniently placed to his side. The car was definitely moving a lot faster than a broom, and its abrupt movements were starting to make him feel a bit sick.

Maybe things would be going better if it wasn’t the middle of the night, and he could see where they were going.

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Jun, you can relax.” Jaemin laughed again. “I’ve done this a million times. Even my mum says I’m a good driver, and she about pees herself when you go a dot over the speed limit.”

Renjun didn’t even have time to think about what that meant. “I think I’m going to vomit.”

Jaemin did look over at him rather panickedly at that. “Shit, are you serious? Wait, let me —” He slowed down, and spun the wheel until they jolted over the side of the road and Jaemin parked the car next to another one. Bright lights still flooded in from the outside, and Renjun couldn’t believe that he had never noticed just how _bright_ the muggle world was.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, leaning over the middle and resting a hand against Renjun’s shoulder, warm.

Renjun had a hand pressed to his lower stomach area, but with the car no longer moving, he was quick to notice that the sick feeling was actually coming from his chest, and so posed no real threat of actually barfing. He nodded.

“Yes. I think that was just a bit much. I’ve never been in one of these.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaemin frowned, and his hand moved to gently stroke over Renjun’s shoulder. “I didn’t know it would be that bad. There’s a petrol station right here, would you like something to drink or eat? You can apparate home, too, if you want, I’ll just have to drive the car back to my parents’ place but I can be with you in, like, half an hour —”

“Something to drink would be nice,” Renjun cut him off. “Other than that, I think I’ll be fine.”

Jaemin nodded, and out of the compartment in front of Renjun’s seat he dug a wallet full of muggle money. Renjun had yet to comprehend how they used little plastic cards to keep their money, even though Jaemin and Mark had tried to explain it to him years ago, but lucky for him, all Jaemin took out of the wallet were a couple of banknotes. Those he could get behind. They worked the same way coins did, just in a different format.

“Just wait here, I promise it won’t take long.” Jaemin squeezed his shoulder before he hopped out of the car.

Renjun took the time Jaemin was gone, vanished behind the door of the little shop, to open the door on his side, too, and stretch his legs out of the car. He didn’t dare leave his seat, but the fresh air on his face did him good.

The car was parked in a car park between a bunch of others, though most of them looked old and rusty, and not at all like the one Jaemin had picked up from his parents. Between the car and the shop Jaemin had disappeared into, Renjun spotted a row of pillars with tubes and pumps, one of which a woman was holding into her car. There were people out despite the late hour: a gaggle of teenage muggles hanging out on the side of the car park, drinking out of tin cans, a few tired looking people in suits, either smoking, or holding pumps into their cars, or drinking out of steaming paper cups.

Renjun watched as a few cars down from Jaemin’s, a young man lit up a cigarette, leaned against his car door.

He had taken Muggle Studies as an O.W.L., and while he had never been particularly good at it, and had only managed an Acceptable on his exam despite hours of studying with Jaemin and Mark, he’d always been interested in it.

And of course he had seen a car before. He had lived in London for a good portion of his teenage years, and he had grown up alongside Mark, whose father was a muggle. He’d just never been _in_ one, as no one had ever seen the point of driving him around in a car when all the adults around him could apparate, and they had portkeys and floo.

He hadn’t quite anticipated how fast and how weirdly the muggle vehicles moved.

Jaemin reappeared in the door to the store, clutching two bottles of water and two other, plastic-wrapped objects.

“Ice cream,” he said, a smile taking over his face when he noticed Renjun eyeing them skeptically. The plastic crinkled as he handed one to Renjun, dropping back into his seat. “You looked like you could use some sugar.”

Renjun was almost about to say that he doubted it, but he opened the wrapper and stuck the ice lolly into his mouth, and he realized that Jaemin was right. The sugary cold of the lolly had a weirdly calming effect on his nerves, and once he had washed the sticky flavour down with a few gulps of water, he felt brand new.

“I think I’m good to go,” he said when Jaemin had finished his lolly, too, and they had drained the bottles of water.

“Sure?” Jaemin still looked concerned, forehead laid into a frown. “We can stay here for a little longer, or we can go home. I can drive on my own. You don’t have to stay in here if it makes you feel sick.”

Renjun shook his head, but a smile crept onto his face. “No, really, I’m fine now. It won’t happen again.”

But when Jaemin started the car again, though not without sending Renjun one last concerned glance, he quickly cast an anti-sickness spell over his throat while Jaemin was distracted with steering them back onto the road.

They left behind the flashing lights of the towns that surrounded Jaemin’s home, where they had picked up the car — Jaemin hadn’t told Renjun what they were going to do until they’d already been in the car, but Renjun had enjoyed the opportunity to talk to Jaemin’s parents — and drove up the winding roads of the dark hills.

“My parents used to take me and my friends out here to set up tents and fish when I was a child,” Jaemin explained. “I hope I’ll find the way, but if I do, I know a really sweet spot up here. You can see everything from there.”

He steered the car past the rows of dark trees, following a road that was barely more than a sand path and only just avoiding bumping into a tree several times. Renjun had taken to clinging onto the handle for dear life again.

But, finally, Jaemin let out a triumphant, “Aha!” and the car slowed to a halt, parking at the side of the narrow road.

Jaemin grabbed the bag he had thrown on the backseat earlier, and they followed the path along the trees for a little while longer on foot — it soon got too narrow for a car to fit through. Despite not feeling sick anymore, Renjun was still glad to be on his own two feet again, moving at his own pace, fresh air in his lungs. He wasn’t scared of woods or the dark, and he rather enjoyed the feeling of the soft earth under the soles of his boots, sinking in a little with every step.

Jaemin stayed a step in front of him, leading him until they reached the edge of the hill.

He’d been right, too. Renjun could see everything from up here: the dark woods that covered the hills they had just driven over and past, and most importantly, the lights of the towns. They blended into a sea of rainbow colours, sparkling and alive. It all looked so small from up there, and it took Renjun’s breath away. He almost wanted to take a step forward and sink into it, but he stopped himself before he could tumble down the hill, and joined Jaemin on the ground instead.

A flick of Jaemin’s wand set free a small swarm of floating lights, ones Renjun knew would be too hot to touch, but he almost ached to reach out for them, anyway. They filled the air with golden light, warm and comforting.

“I’m sorry for making you go through all of that just for this.” Jaemin laughed a little, and the golden light was almost enough to conceal the rosy colour that had risen in his cheeks. Almost. “I know we could’ve just apparated, but — I kinda wanted you to have the complete experience, the long drive, and all. It’s one of my best childhood memories.”

It filled Renjun’s chest with a twisted warmth, to know that Jaemin was willing to share this part of him with him. Twisted because, deep down, he knew he shouldn’t allow either of them to indulge in this. That he should pull away.

But he didn’t. Not when Jaemin had taken him here, not when Jaemin had cared for him at the petrol station. And not when Jaemin reached out, there, on that hill, his trembling fingers tracing down the curve of Renjun’s wrist until the tips of them met the heel of his palm. He stayed there, and they kept their eyes glued to the sight in front of them until Renjun granted him permission once more — opened his palm, spread his fingers wide, for Jaemin to take his hand.

It was warm, and they still didn’t look at each other.

“Thank you,” Renjun whispered. “For taking me here. I promise the drive wasn’t that bad.” He could hear Jaemin smile with him, but he didn’t turn around to confirm it. He wasn’t sure if he could handle that right then.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle to ask why Jaemin had taken him out here, why he had decided that he wanted to share this with Renjun, either. His heart was already beating out of his chest, and he could only hope, could only pray to Merlin and all the stars above, that Jaemin couldn’t feel his hammering pulse through his palm.

They stayed there, like that, in silence.

 _At least until the next full moon,_ he had begged Donghyuck when they’d fought over Jaemin. _Let me be selfish for just a little longer._ The sky was overcast that night, but Renjun didn’t need to see the moon to know its phase. It was ingrained into his head, from the calendar he had struck up in the kitchen. He only had three days left.

He was sure that Jaemin was aware of it, too, he’d caught his eyes slipping over to the calendar rather frequently lately. But he didn’t know what would come after that night, he didn’t know what Renjun had promised Donghyuck.

Had promised himself, rather, because he hadn’t promised Donghyuck anything. But he had himself.

No longer than the next full moon. He would let Jaemin stay until then, he would even let him nurse him back to health the morning after if Jaemin so desired, but after that, he would have to leave. Renjun wouldn’t — _couldn’t_ — let this continue any longer. Donghyuck had been right that day: he _was_ selfish. But he no longer would be.

Jaemin deserved a million times better than someone like him. Jaemin deserved someone who he could be sure would love him back, who would be _able_ to love him back. He deserved someone he didn’t have to worry about all the time, someone who didn’t turn into a monster once a month, someone who wasn’t a threat to his personal safety. Jaemin deserved to be sure about his love and not have to question if he was loved all the time.

Renjun couldn’t offer that. He wasn’t equipped to guarantee anything anymore.

“Are you shaking?” Jaemin asked quietly, as if he tried not to disrupt the silence. “Are you okay?”

Renjun nodded, whispered back an, “I’m okay,” and kept his eyes firmly on the sea of lights in front of him.

Jaemin, however, had stopped doing that. He was looking directly at Renjun, now, and Renjun could feel his eyes burn into the side of his face. He frowned, too, but he didn’t ask again.

Seconds passed like that, with Renjun’s hand shaking just slightly in Jaemin’s and Jaemin staring at the unmoving side of his face, and silence falling between them so viciously. It hurt to be stared at; it had always hurt to be stared at by Jaemin, but it hurt even more, now. But he bore it, and slowly, he could feel his hand stop shaking.

Slowly, the pressure inside his brain sank, and his heart started to beat again.

But then Jaemin leaned just a bit closer. “Renjun?” he asked, quietly, tentatively. His voice was barely more than a breath against Renjun’s face, and Renjun tensed up again. “Could you, um. Could you look at me? Please?”

His heart was still beating, but it was beating erratically, now. His face was bright red before he’d even turned to him.

Jaemin was — he was way closer than Renjun had anticipated him to be, and his eyes were so big and so dark and his lips were opened just slightly, a dark part between the plush pink of his mouth. Renjun had to force himself to look away, drag his eyes up to Jaemin’s only to find him already looking at him.

“What?” Renjun asked quietly, just to say something and fill the small space between them.

Jaemin cleared his throat quietly. “Renjun, I —” He cut himself off, and his eyes got impossibly wider and Renjun had never truly noticed how _big_ his eyes were, how long his lashes, but now he was so close — “Can I kiss you?”

Renjun had seen it coming, he’d known that this was where all of it had been heading, but it still knocked the breath out of his lungs. It still left him speechless, left a soaring sensation in his chest where he guessed his lungs should be. It burnt everything away until all he could think of was Jaemin right in front of him, asking for a kiss.

He knew he should’ve said no. He should have pulled away, he should’ve left. He couldn’t allow himself to do that, no matter how much he wanted to, because it would only hurt them both in the end. He knew that. He knew it all.

And yet, Jaemin was so, so close to him, only an inch separating their lips. He would only have to tip his chin forward to touch them, would only have to lean in so minimally. He could do it, and it could be over in a second. Or — not.

He nodded before he could stop himself, and then their lips were touching.

It was a gentle kiss, tentative, trying. Jaemin’s lips were warm and touched his just softly, a little rough, but they still made his nerves spark up under his skin. It tickled in his hands, as if they ached to reach out and pull him closer. They moved, kissing in sync, and Renjun angled his head just right to put in a little more pressure —

Jaemin pulled away first, just to catch his breath, but the second his lips left Renjun’s, everything came rushing in.

Guilt, panic, self-hatred and fear built up to a monster inside of Renjun and he shied away, tried to shield himself from the oncoming storm in his mind only for it to hit him in the face. He hadn’t noticed the hand Jaemin had placed on his back until Jaemin leaned back in, and Renjun flinched and did what he did best in a time of crisis.

He left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Leave me a kudos or a comment if you did :)


	14. fourteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Unfortunately, this time I bring you a rather angsty chapter. Not to say, perhaps the angstiest chapter since the very beginning. Have fun!
> 
> Warnings: self deprecation, internalized biases, depression-esque behavior, werewolf transformation typical body horror

His knees hit the ground with how fast he had apparated, and he had to push himself back up by his scraped hands before he could stumble up the path and into the house, his feet moving faster than they ever had.

The pop of someone apparating sounded behind him just as he reached the house. He burst through the front door and rushed past the kitchen and the living room, down the wide entrance hall he had loved to play in with his siblings when he’d been a child. Now, all it harboured was fear. Up the stairs of the west wing, hoping that Jaemin would look for him elsewhere first. The house was enormous, and Renjun had learned where to hide if he didn’t want to be found.

And yet, he knew he had lost when he heard the front door open again, and Jaemin’s steps echoing through the entrance hall. He was right behind him, because Jaemin had also learned where to find him.

Renjun wasn’t _running,_ but he was walking down the corridors rather quickly.

“Renjun?” Jaemin called behind him, and Renjun didn’t like how close he sounded. He picked up his pace even more and hurried up the next flight of stairs. “Renjun, where are you going? What’s going on?”

Renjun didn’t know where he was going, either, but his bedroom had been a sanctuary for him every time he’d wanted to get away from people, be it his own family or Jaemin. He could hex the door shut and curl up in his bed for the rest of the night, and he could wait until Jaemin got too frustrated with waiting for him and left.

Except that he had moved most of his things to Jaemin’s room over time, and he found his own mostly empty.

“Renjun?” Jaemin slowed to a halt behind him when he spotted Renjun stand in the doorway to his room, unmoving, staring at the empty bed and the open doors of his closet, revealing shelves emptier than usual.

He had indulged in this thing with Jaemin way more than he’d realized.

“Hey.” Jaemin’s voice was gentle, and he didn’t step any closer, as if scared that Renjun would run away again. “Hey. Jun. What’s going on? What’s wrong? I’m sorry if that was too far, I just thought —”

“You need to leave,” Renjun whispered. The words got stuck in his throat, choked up by fear.

Jaemin paused. A million thoughts rushed through Renjun’s head, so many that it left him breathless and he had no strength to grasp a single one. Jaemin was so very still behind him, didn’t seem to move a muscle, but Renjun also didn’t dare to turn around and confirm. Finally, though, Jaemin breathed out a confused, “What?”

“Leave,” Renjun said a little louder this time. “You can’t stay here any longer.”

“What?” Jaemin repeated, and a small laugh pushed past his lips, incredulous. “Why? Renjun, what’s wrong? It’s only a couple of days left until the full moon, I can’t just leave now.”

“Yes, you can.” Renjun swallowed heavily, but his voice stayed steady. “I can handle myself.”

“Oh, can you, now?” Jaemin scoffed, and his tone was so vicious that it stung in Renjun’s chest. He knew that he deserved it, though, so he gritted his teeth through it. “You didn’t look much like you could handle yourself last time.”

“I can, though. And I will have to, because you’re not staying. End of discussion.” Renjun finally turned around to face Jaemin, just to give more weight to his words by looking into his eyes. He found him frowning, eyes blown wide in confusion, lower lips almost trembling with the need to snap back, or out of fear, Renjun didn’t know.

After a second of heavy silence, Jaemin finally seemed to get over himself and asked, “What’s really wrong?”

Renjun closed his eyes. He had meant for this conversation to go differently, he’d wanted to do it after the full moon, when he wouldn’t feel its pull on him anymore, and could think clearly. He’d wanted to be gentle with it, explain to Jaemin exactly why this wouldn’t work, he’d wanted to be nice, and kind, he’d wanted to be understanding.

But that had never worked for the two of them. They both had always been a bit too gritty, too full of bite and not enough softness to sink their teeth into. He hadn’t wanted this conversation to end in a fight, but what was there to do?

“This isn’t working out,” he said firmly, without looking away from Jaemin’s eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” Jaemin took a step closer at that, almost imposing in the way he squared his shoulders. As if preparing to fight. He, too, didn’t look away. “Do tell me. What do you think are we doing that we can’t continue?”

Jaemin was poking a chained dog, and Renjun was pretty sure he was aware of it. He knew that Renjun didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to say it out loud. That he was scared it had all been an illusion, a lie to make him doubt himself. But Jaemin had _kissed_ him, and that was more proof than he had wanted.

“You like me.” Still, his voice wavered. “You like me. You kissed me.”

“Well, I think that’s obvious.” Another small scoff, and Jaemin’s voice didn’t shake. “You kissed me back, too. Did you not want to? Because I’m really, really sorry if that’s the case, but I think we should still talk about that then —”

“It doesn’t matter if I wanted to or not.” Renjun put a hand against the doorframe as if to steady himself. “Do you seriously not realize this, Jaemin? It doesn’t matter what I _want._ If things were going the way I _wanted_ them to, I would be training to be a teacher right now, not lock myself up in the family mansion and pity myself. The things I do or don’t want don’t change the way I am, and the responsibilities that come with this. I can’t change that, and you can’t either.”

“So this _is_ about the werewolf thing.”

“Of course it’s about the werewolf thing, Jaemin. Everything is about the werewolf thing for me now. That’s my life now, I can’t get away from it. But _you_ can, and you have to. I’m not letting you stay like this.”

“Stay like what?” Jaemin sounded incredulous. “Do you really think I have that big of a problem with you being a werewolf? Because, well, then I have to tell you that I _don’t care._ I don’t and I never will.”

“You can’t say that.” Renjun shook his head when Jaemin opened his mouth to dispute him. “You can’t. You have no idea, just living with me for a couple of weeks and taking care of me after one full moon does not guarantee you that things are going to stay okay. They won’t, actually I can guarantee you that. I don’t want to — I can’t live with chaining you to this kind of life. Not when I know that could do so much better than this, and you _deserve_ so much better.”

Jaemin stared at him, wide eyed, like he couldn’t believe it. It made Renjun want to reach out and pull him closer, tell him things would be all right. But he held himself back. Things would be all right, but maybe not between them.

“I don’t think you get to decide that for me.” Jaemin didn’t sound as hurt as he looked. “I can decide on my own.”

“Well, then I’m telling you that you’re deciding on the wrong thing if your decision is to waste your life away with me.”

“It’s not a waste if it’s you,” Jaemin said, and despite the cheesiness, it still struck Renjun in the chest. “I’ve liked you since we were, like, thirteen maybe. I didn’t think you would ever like me back, so I went on dates with a bunch of random people without ever caring if they were good to me, just to get over you. It never worked, though, and I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but being with you here has just made me realize all the more how much I like you. And — and then you said I could kiss you tonight, and you kissed me back and I was so, so happy for a moment because I’d so hoped I hadn’t read the signs wrong, but then you disappeared. But you also. You also kissed me, still.”

“I never meant for that to happen.” He tried so very hard to ignore the way Jaemin flinched. “I hated myself for every second I spent way too close to you, because I knew it would only hurt you. I’m so sorry. I really, really am.”

Jaemin truly looked hurt, then. His lips were hanging open an inch, but they no longer looked as enticing as they had earlier, his eyes blown wide with hurt. “But that means that you wanted to, though, right?”

Renjun pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter what I want.”

Shaking his head, Jaemin turned away from him. “Except that it does. You don’t have to do what you think will be best for everyone else. You’re allowed to do what you think will be best for you.”

“But this won’t be the best for either of us.” Renjun pushed himself off the door to take a step down the corridor in the opposite direction. “It would be best for both of us if you left,” he added quietly. “This way, we will both only be hurt.”

“You don’t know that.” Jaemin spun back around to face him, but this time, Renjun turned his back on him. “You don’t know anything. Neither do I. The only way we can know what will happen is if we let it happen.”

“No, Jaemin,” Renjun said resolutely. He didn’t turn back around. “Nothing will happen.”

“If you could stop being so goddamn stubborn for one second —”

“No.” Renjun could feel his own blood start to boil, and he knew that this was the effect of the nearing full moon and that he wasn’t actually mad at Jaemin — but he was still so mad. “If _you_ could stop being so dense, please.”

Jaemin fell silent for a moment, and Renjun could feel his eyes burning into his back.

“You will never know what this feels like, Jaemin. It’s _me_ who has to go through this, not you. Don’t stand there trying to tell me what I can and can’t do, you’ll make yourself look like a fool. Do you know how much I would give to be in your shoes, getting to _choose_ what life I want to live? I’m a _monster_ now. I don’t get to choose. All of that was taken from me. Everything I ever wanted is just gone. How do you think would I _live_ with myself, knowing that someone I love sits awake once a month as I tear myself to pieces so I don’t accidentally eat him alive? That you have to look at me like this?”

Jaemin’s face was hard, cold like stone. Renjun hated it, but there was nothing he could do. “I don’t want to pretend like I know what it’s like, but you can’t just send me away and expect me to take it —”

“Yes I can,” Renjun bit out. Everything inside of him burnt, with shame, with hurt, and he just wanted Jaemin gone. He wanted him out of his sight, he wanted to be out of his sight, he wanted his peace and quiet. A second to breathe, to stick his head out of the ocean and gasp for air to relieve him from this pain. He aimed and shot. Striked to kill. “I didn’t want to kiss you, I’ll never want to. I’m sorry that I did, but that’s the end of it. I don’t like you — I don’t like you like that.”

His voice broke. He wasn’t lying. _Because I think I might be in love with you, and I’m not equipped to handle that._

The silence that fell between them was so vicious, so seeping with the hurt that bore into Renjun’s core as he watched Jaemin’s expression falter, the cold stone of his expression soften up with pain trickling from his eyes.

“Renjun —” Jaemin’s voice was almost pleading now, no trace of the heat they both had previously carried.

But Renjun couldn’t let himself go weak. This was what he needed to do, he’d known so for weeks, and even if he had planned for it to go differently, it still needed to happen. He needed Jaemin to go, one way or another. So he said, firmly, resolutely, “No,” and he left it at that. It was all he had left to say.

He took down the corridor in long strides. Behind him, the sound of someone disapparating echoed down the hall.

It was what happened when you pulled the string for too long. The bow broke.

Jaemin came back sometime during the next day, Renjun heard him popping in and out, likely to get his things.

Renjun didn’t get up. He had yet to collect his own clothes and his blanket and pillow from Jaemin’s room — sleeping in his own bed had been weird even without considering that, though. It had been so quiet, no shallow breathing by his ear, no warmth beside him that he’d wake up snuggled too close to. It was lonely, in a way. But he knew that this was how it was supposed to be for him. People like him didn’t get the luxury of sleeping next to other people.

He stayed in bed even when his stomach started to growl. A slice of toast floated into his room from the kitchen with a flick of his wand, but it was plain, and nothing compared to the breakfasts Jaemin had made for them. He chewed on it listlessly and forced it down his throat. Once swallowed, it sat in the pits of his stomach like a rock, weighing him down.

He hadn’t opened the curtains yet, but that was because he hadn’t even closed them the night before.

The entire house was eerily quiet without Jaemin. Renjun had never noticed just how much Jaemin had filled the space with himself, always talking, humming under his breath, or just being. His existence alone had sung to Renjun.

Now, the halls were quiet; the kitchen was empty, no one clattered up and down the stairs anymore, no one left their shoes by the front door. The light falling into the hallway from the gap under Jaemin’s door was gone.

But he had no room to complain. This was what he had wanted: to be alone, for Jaemin to leave. This was the life he was now destined to lead, in solitude, with only himself to blame for things. He had no room to be sad about that fact that he had been left, because it was the way things were supposed to be, and he had kicked Jaemin out himself.

So he apparated onto the porch, not being able to muster up the energy to walk, and curled up in his chair instead of his bed. But the empty fields and the empty chair by his side only made him feel worse.

Of course he’d known that Jaemin leaving would come with a bit of hurt for him, but he hadn’t quite anticipated how much he had relied on his presence the prior few weeks. He hadn’t anticipated how much he would miss him after just a day, how much the lack of his presence would feel like he was missing a part of himself.

It was weird. He’d enjoyed having the house to himself before Jaemin had come around, but now he felt it was far too big for just him alone. There was too much space, too many halls to fill with noise, too many rooms to wander through. His entire family, all of his ancestors had lived and grown their families in this house, it had been in family possession long before one of his ancestors had opened the family shop in Diagon Alley. There were portraits of men and women that bore slight resemblances to Renjun down the halls of every level, and even a small statue of the man who had started their family business of making wands hundreds of years ago in the living room.

Even the portraits were silent now that Jaemin was gone.

He had caught Jaemin talking to the portrait of his great great aunt on the second floor of the east wing a few times, and he was sure that she had already noticed his absence. When he passed her on his way back inside — walking this time because he was too ashamed to apparate again — she threw him a stern glance.

But there was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could say. The house would stay silent.

His bed was warm and welcoming, at least, when he sank back into it. His room was still empty.

He wrote a letter to Donghyuck, telling him that he’d done it, that Jaemin was gone and that he wouldn’t bother him again, but he realized that he didn’t have the energy to apparate to the post office and send it when he’d finished it.

It was better that way, he supposed, because the letter was surely embarrassing in its crumpled state. He’d written it in his bed with as little ink as he could manage, and he was almost sure that he had both cried and passed out in the middle of it, possibly several times. He stored it in the bottom drawer of his bedside table instead.

He didn’t know where Jaemin was now. If he had gone home to his parents, if he had picked his job at their restaurant back up, if he was driving other people around in his family’s car. If he had gone to visit their friends — maybe Donghyuck already knew about what had happened. Maybe Jaemin had told them all that they had ended with a bang, and now none of them wanted to talk to him anymore. Or maybe he wasn’t in any condition to talk about it, either.

Renjun didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he cared, either.

He flicked his wand to open the window and let some fresh air in, and he turned around in his bed and stared at the wall until he fell asleep. He had nothing else to do anymore, not when he was this alone.

He got up the morning before the full moon and got dressed, washed his face and opened the curtains in every room. He had forgotten how long it took by himself, but he still did it. Breakfast in the kitchen was bland and boring, just toast and some tea, but then he tried his hand at some fried eggs, and while they weren’t great, they were better than nothing.

The ache in his ribs and limbs had already sprung up the day before, but it was a million times worse that day. So he dribbled a few drops of pain potion into his tea and spent his morning out on the porch.

It was still lonely, but it felt a lot better than the day before. He could get used to this.

The potion at least numbed the pain slowly building in his chest until it was nothing more than a dull pressure against his bones. A little uncomfortable, but nowhere near as painful as it would have been without. He had written to Xuxi two weeks prior, asking for the recipe for a stronger pain potion, so that he could survive the pain this time around.

It still felt like the wolf was trying to break from within his ribcage in broad daylight, but at least he had it under control this time. He sat out on the porch and looked over the fields, and he didn’t plan on getting up until nightfall.

He was sure that he had fallen asleep, because when he woke, the sunlight had taken on the golden shine of the afternoon, then pain had started to return into his limbs as the potion slowly wore off, and his joints were becoming bloated with pain. He remembered when he and Jaemin had joked about him being an old man, and smiled to himself.

In the kitchen, he stuffed his face with more toast and some chocolate — he found an unwashed plate on the counter, and in this state, he almost teared up when he realized that it was the plate Jaemin had always placed his biscuits on.

He could’ve really used one of those chocolate chip biscuits in that moment.

He ate until he felt he was about to burst, to avoid the wolf being too hungry and attempting to eat his butt, and when he had devoured most of his fridge’s content and taken another few swigs of his pain potion vial, he heaved himself down into the basement.

Putting the shackles on had been weird the first time, and it wasn’t any better the second. He locked the door and rolled his wand into a change of clothes and tucked it into the small window niche, hoping that the wolf wouldn’t accidentally knock it down and out of his reach. The shackles clicked into place around his ankles, and he took a deep breath before he fasted them around his wrists as well. Their hooks in the walls were reinforced with magic, and the lock of the door was magically secured, too, as were all the windows, no matter how small.

He couldn’t get out, and yet, he made sure to pull the shackles as tight as he could before he sat down.

The sun hadn’t completely set outside yet, but it was better to be early than too late. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the cold wall, rough against his back, but the building pain was too harsh to fall asleep again.

At this point of the transformation, no amount of pain potions would be able to soothe him.

Pain broke through him in waves, reaching its summit in his chest, where the wolf was already trying to claw its way out of his body, and fading off into the tips of his fingers. The chains clanged together when he curled up on himself.

There was only so much of himself he could hide behind these walls, but he intended to fit as much as possible. No one would ever have to see him again. His friends, his family, they would never see this broken, bruised piece of the person he used to be. He could hide here for as long as possible, as much as possible, he could barricade the doors, he could chain himself to the walls and lock himself in his bedroom and never leave his mansion on the hill. He would never come close to hurting someone again, mentally or physically. He was best off here.

When he had first been turned, he’d been outraged to remember what the chapters on werewolves in their Defense Against the Dark Arts books had said, That they were best isolated and kept away from society. _I’m not a beast,_ he’d said to the Chief Warlock in front of the Wizengamot. But now he couldn’t agree more. He was best kept alone.

He didn’t know when tears had started to fall, but he caught them on his hands, and he wasn’t sure what had caused them. He tried to tell himself that it was because of the pain still ripping through him, but he couldn’t be sure.

It wasn’t like it mattered much. Nothing mattered much anymore, and he lowered his head onto his knees and waited for the moon to rise, for the wolf to come. It got darker in the basement by the second.

When it ripped out of him, claws bursting through his skin and his teeth growing into shapes he couldn’t imagine, he howled so loud that he was sure the entire world could have heard him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed still despite the rather ... unfortunate events. Leave me a kudos or a comment if you did!
> 
> See you (hopefully) on Wednesday!


	15. fifteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I forgot to update again on Wednesday, which is why there will be two chapters posted today! I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of pain killer abuse (mild overdosing), mentions of self hatred and internalized biases

Sunlight trickled in through the windows, trickled back out. Renjun barely opened his eyes.

The floor was cold, but he had no energy to get up. What was the point? He could get up later, if he wanted to.

But it was cold, too cold to sleep, so he pulled the blanket that he knew was somewhere beside him over his body. The cramps in his legs had yet to secede, and he was sure that he had broken more than one bone this time.

He didn’t care. He didn’t get up. His eyes barely opened when the clanking of the chains and the sunlight in his face tried to keep him awake. A cloud shifted in front of the sun, and he sighed in gratitude. Fell back asleep.

This was peace, he thought in a conscious moment. This was what his life was supposed to look like.

Consciousness was a rare thing now, but the sleep was bliss. He hadn’t felt this much at peace in days, and the ache of his body and the exhaustion were enough to keep him under. He didn’t have to get up. He was alone, now, there was no one waiting for him, there was nothing to do, no one to have expectations. He smiled.

The sun moved until it was no longer shining through the basement windows, and he no longer had a concept of the passage of time. His cheek was still pressed against the cold ground and the scratchy blanket rubbed against his skin uncomfortably, but he still didn’t have it in him, not even the desire, to get up.

He was floating in a weird space between consciousness and dream, blinking his eyes back open every few minutes to the feeling that hours had passed. He saw shadows move along the walls that weren’t really there; he heard voices talk next to his ear even though he knew he was alone — the same things happened over and over again, Jeno was there and then he wasn’t, Mark and Donghyuck, too, and Jaemin a few times. They threw open the door and clattered down the stairs, and they disappeared every time he opened his eyes. So he didn’t bother to anymore.

He let himself live in that dreamed up world where his friends could still be with him, where they were here with him and he wasn’t alone. It felt good to not be alone. If only his mind wasn’t swimming so much.

He didn’t open his eyes when the steps in his dreams grew louder, or when something touched his arm, when the blanket was tucked tighter around him. It was a dream, he knew that. He knew that he was dreaming, but he couldn’t change anything about it. His mind was too far away from him, even when someone said his name by his ear.

He drifted back off.

“Renjun.” The world was white around him. Nothing but white.

“Renjun.” Something touched his arm again, and a light sting trickled through his elbow. “Renjun, come on. I really don’t want to do this, but you’re not leaving me with a lot of options.” Another sting, closer to his shoulder this time.

Only when something cold touched his chest, way too close to the cluster of scars that marred his side, was he ripped back into reality. He flinched awake as if the touch had burnt him, and tried to scramble back and away from the figure crouched in front of him, only to crumble when he put weight on his wrist, pain shooting through him.

He curled up on himself, whimpering and clutching his wrist to his chest as the pain faded into a throbbing sensation. His very naked chest, he realized a moment later, along with his very naked lower body, which was thankfully still covered by the scratchy blanket from the basement. He used his uninjured arm to pull it further up his body.

It took him a second longer to realize where he was.

Lifting his head, slowly, he took in his surroundings. This was not the basement, where he had last been conscious. The sun was shining through the large windows of the living room, and he could see the gardens from here. He was no longer propped up on the icy floor of the basement, either. The soft cushions he had curled up on were those of the sofa, the only thing left was the blanket, and the big eyes staring at him from the side of the sofa belonged to —

“Jaemin,” he breathed out. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jaemin lowered his eyes down to his own hands, where he was balancing his wand between his fingers. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and Renjun was sure that he was aware of how Renjun thought about it.

“I couldn’t just leave you here,” he mumbled. “I thought you might need help.”

Renjun’s wrist ached and judging from the spirals of pain that trickled down his body, there were many more injuries to be tended to, but all he could focus on was the boy crouched in front of him. Jaemin looked so different from the last time Renjun had seen him — which had only been a few days ago, but still, Jaemin looked different.

His face and his eyes and his hair were the same, but the way he held himself was different. They’d parted in fight a few days ago, Jaemin had been angry when he’d left, and Renjun had been even angrier.

Now, Jaemin held himself carefully. He didn’t touch Renjun, not anymore, but he knew that if he did, he would do so carefully. As gently as he had the first time he’d helped Renjun tend to his injuries. They had lost that gentleness somewhere in the weeks they had spent together, and Renjun had been glad. He had never enjoyed being treated like he could break, and especially not since he’d been attacked. Jaemin had learned to touch him like he always had.

Now, all of that was gone again, but Renjun supposed that was fair. He _had_ told Jaemin to leave him alone. It was his fault.

“I don’t need your help,” he mumbled, even though he was glad that Jaemin was here. He’d been better at healing spells that Renjun last time, and he hadn’t originally meant for Jaemin to be gone over the full moon.

If it was rude to think of Jaemin only in the context of his own wellbeing after hauling his own arse all night, then Renjun would not be the one to remind the judgmental voice in his head that he only did so to suppress all thoughts of why else he was glad that Jaemin was with him again. He didn’t allow himself to go there.

Jaemin didn’t look at him, and after years of learning to read him, Renjun knew that the thin line of his lips meant that he was holding himself back from snapping. “I think you do, though,” he said instead, voice quiet, controlled. “It’s the afternoon, and I’m guessing that this is the first time you’ve been fully conscious today. You were still passed out in the basement when I got here, and you didn’t wake up for the full forty minutes that I’ve been here.”

“So?” Renjun knew that that wasn’t normal, but who was he if he didn’t put up a fight.

“So.” Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “I think you might have overdosed on your pain potions a little yesterday.”

It sliced through Renjun with a weird clarity, the realization that he had. He had taken it the same way he always had, not considering the fact that he had brewed a much stronger recipe. That was why he’d felt so sleepy, that’s why he had felt little of the pain until the moment of the transformation, that’s why the sleep that morning had felt so weird.

Jaemin was right. He _had_ overdosed on pain potions, and now that that the effects had worn off, it all came crashing down on him. He felt sluggish, still, and his mind was a bit all over the place, and pain pierced every thought.

“Renjun,” Jaemin said carefully. “I know you can take care of yourself. I know you can do everything by yourself, I know that. But you don’t have to. You’re allowed to rely on people when you need to. No one wants to leave you.”

“I don’t need to, though,” he gritted out. He had moved his wrist in a weird way, and the pain flared through him.

Jaemin reached a hand out for him, tentatively, but he didn’t touch him, not until Renjun would make a move. “Let me,” he asked. The words were barely loud enough for Renjun to hear. “Let me, please.”

What kind of fight was there for Renjun to put up? Why should he have refused? A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, none of them clear enough to grasp when Jaemin crouched so close to him, when he was reaching for him, asking. _Let me._ Why not? He let his injured arm sink against Jaemin’s palm, and Jaemin smiled at him.

The tip of Jaemin’s wand spread the oddly familiar warmth over his arm, and slowly, the pulsing ache began to fade.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling his hand back against his chest.

Jaemin’s eyes travelled down to where his uninjured hand was still holding up the blanket, mostly aiming to cover the side of his chest, and he turned bright red. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. “I put your clothes over there.” He vaguely gestures towards the sofa table. “I’ll step out so you can get dressed. Call me when you’re done?”

Renjun nodded, and they did just that. When Jaemin stepped back into the living room, Renjun had moved to sit down on the armchair, fully dressed, and he was trying to spell a bruise on his ankle to fade.

“Don’t press into it so hard.” Jaemin chuckled. “You’re only going to make it bruise worse.”

Renjun could feel himself turn red. “I know what I’m doing,” he blurted, but he did what Jaemin had said, and the bruise actually started to fade the next time he cast the spell. “Okay, maybe I didn’t.”

They both laughed, and Renjun didn’t complain when Jaemin crouched down in front of him again to help him fade his bruises and stitch up the cuts. Renjun took care of his arms while Jaemin focussed on his legs. He had broken a toe, too, as well as dislocated his shoulder, but because it had already popped back into where it was supposed to be, all they needed to do was fade the pain that still spread down his torso from it. Jaemin summoned some bandages and expertly wrapped it up so Renjun couldn’t move it weirdly and hurt himself more.

“Seriously, where did you learn all of this?” he asked, watching as Jaemin fastened the bandage.

Jaemin seemed to almost turn red again. “My dad used to be a paramedic,” he said slowly, evading Renjun’s eyes. “Before he met mum, I mean. The restaurant actually belongs to her, but dad started working there after they got married because he was tired of the paramedic stuff, and they wanted to have a cute little family business. So I asked him to teach me some things, and they let me practice a few healing spells on their minor kitchen injuries.”

Renjun’s heart beat in his throat. “And what were you practicing for?” he asked quietly, even though he had an idea.

Jaemin still avoided his gaze. “I knew I wanted to come here and help you since you told us you’d be staying here back then.” He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “I mean, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, anyway, so. Yes. I had a crush on you, obviously, still do. Not that I was trying to abuse this situation as a means to get closer to you,” he hurried to say. “Merlin, no, not at all, that sounds awful. I just hated the thought of you being all on your own out here, with no one around you helping you. Obviously I saw how you looked the mornings after the two full moons you spent at Hogwarts, and that was _after_ you’d been to the hospital wing. So I read up on this stuff, what it does to you, and decided I could … help you, if you let me. That I could learn how to help you, and be here for you.”

This time, it was Renjun who was avoiding his eyes when Jaemin finally looked back up. “I can’t stop you from doing anything,” he croaked out, the words getting stuck in his throat. “I wouldn’t advise you to stay here, but —”

“But I want to,” Jaemin finishes for him. “So if you’ll have me, I would like to stay with you.”

Slowly, Renjun nodded and swallowed heavily. “Sure. I mean, like I said, it’s not like I can stop you.”

When he looked back up, finally, he found Jaemin smiling, and his own lips pulled up, as well. It was true, he couldn’t stop Jaemin from staying if he wanted to — and he didn’t want to, if he was being honest with himself.

His heart twisted in his chest at the admission, he knew he shouldn’t want him to stay. Jaemin deserved a life away from all of this, he deserved someone happy who would promise him the world, not a sad lump of a mess hiding away from the world because he was too scared to look at himself in the mirror.

But Renjun was only a man, and his heart leapt at every loving word. _I would like to stay with you._

He didn’t want to be alone anymore, and the honesty in Jaemin’s eyes as he looked up at him, _so if you’ll have me —_ , made his mouth run dry and brain short circuit. Not even he was strong enough to say no to that.

The house smelled like biscuits again, and there was noise in the halls, steps on the stairs, shoes by the door, and Renjun’s great great aunt’s voice mixed with Jaemin’s on the second floor when Renjun climbed the stairs. He smiled to himself.

Renjun woke up in Jaemin’s bed the next morning, and Jaemin’s clothes were sorted back into his closet like he had never been gone, and the sun was shining in through the window, and he felt like things were going to be okay. He could take care of himself, of course he could, he was an adult and his parents had been too busy for him for most of his adolescence; he was used to doing things on his own — but that didn’t mean that he had to.

It was still hard for him to see what good this would do for Jaemin, what advantage he was drawing out of living confined to an old mansion with a painfully obvious crush, away from his family and their other friends.

But he chose to believe Jaemin when he said that this was what he wanted.

He got a letter, too, that next day. Donghyuck’s family owl gracefully floated in through the open kitchen window while he was sipping on his tea, settling down on the counter and dropping the letter from its beak.

Jaemin grimaced, but made no move to fetch it, so Renjun pushed himself up and ripped it open while leaned against the counter, mindlessly reaching for the bag of owl treats behind him. “Is there anything you want to warn me about before I read this?” he asked, unfolding the letter and looking up at Jaemin, who was still seated at the table.

Jaemin’s face pulled into a pout. “I only told him what happened. Any opinions he has on that are not my fault.”

Renjun smiled to himself and told himself that he could be glad that this at least wasn’t a howler. It came close, though, when he folded open the parchment to reveal Donghyuck’s messy scrawl covering the entire page.

With heartwarming greetings such as _YOU BLOODY TOSSER_ and _WHAT THE HELL DID I TELL YOU, YOU KNOBHEAD_ to sweet inquiries about his wellbeing in the form of _ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR BLOODY MIND,_ Renjun truly felt like Donghyuck had missed him since the last time they had seen each other.

He almost smiled to himself. It was at least good to know that Donghyuck was looking out for Jaemin.

“Is it terrible?” Jaemin asked carefully, lowering his eyes and almost looking ashamed, and Renjun laughed.

“Nothing that I didn’t expect,” he reassured him. “Trust me, I can take being insulted a little, especially if it’s Donghyuck. Nothing he says has any effect on me anymore.”

At least not now that Jaemin was here again, and things were mending. Slowly, but mending. If he had received that letter a few days ago, his response might have been different. In all honesty, he probably would have cried.

Now, though, Jaemin was here and he — he was healing. For good this time. It was not a process he could speed up, even if he had believed that he could. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror and tell himself that things were fine, and that he was feeling okay, because he wasn’t, and things weren’t all right. And that was okay.

It was so much more than his wounds healing, so much more than having to learn how to walk again and putting a healing spell over the bruises on his arms and covering up his scars. It was more than wanting to cry when he saw himself in the mirror, or when people stared at him in public because he had a long scar marring the side of his face. It was about confronting all the things he’d never thought he believed in, overcoming the biases he had against himself, understanding that he was worthy of love no matter what. It was about letting himself feel good things when he hated himself so much; it was about understanding that he deserved good things, and that he didn’t have to fight on his own.

It was about standing in the kitchen with the eyes of the man he’d loved since he’d been too young to understand what love was on his face, and feeling ashamed of himself for being so weak that he’d hurt him. It was about screaming and crying on the basement floor and blaming his friends for things that weren’t their fault just because he felt that the world had done him wrong. It was about refusing love because of all the hatred he carried in him, and about learning how to accept it again. The hand against his face, his mother’s gentle arms around his back. Jaemin.

He could take care of himself, if he needed to. He could learn all of those healing spells, he could learn how to cut bandages and how to pick himself back up after the full moon. He could do it on his own, but that wasn’t what it was about. It wasn’t about what he _could_ do, in theory, because he didn’t _want_ to be alone, and he didn’t have to.

Being independent was great, and all, but being lonely sure wasn’t.

So he sat in silence and let Jaemin change the bandage around his shoulder, soft fingertips against his skin, and he smiled when Jaemin fastened it and patted his arm. Jaemin smiled back.

He spent the rest of his day in the bathtub, a dry spell put over his bandages and drops of soothing potion in the water. He sat in the comforting warmth and drank his tea until his bones stopped aching, and when he got back out, he didn’t avoid looking in the mirror for once.

It still made him feel sick, the image of the scars and cuts and bruises that littered his skin, but he would have to get used to it, eventually. He could feel the cluster of scars at his side under his fingers, the smooth skin broken up by the markings, long and weirdly smooth, almost glassy under his hands. Touching them tickled.

He knew that Jaemin must have seen them, when his hand had touched so close to them the day before, and Renjun hadn’t been fast enough to sit up and cover them. Jaemin had _been_ there, but he had said nothing.

It wasn’t like he could hide them from the people close to him for the rest of his life, even if he wanted to.

His clothes covered most of them, when he pulled them on and stood in front of the mirror, examining. The scar on his face he couldn’t hide from anyone, and he had caught the people from the village behind the hills stare at him every time he came down to do his shopping. One ran down his wrist from the joint of his thumb, and it was hard to hide that one, too, if he didn’t want to wear gloves in July. He already wore long sleeves in the heat, to hide the ones on his arms.

Jaemin had seen all of those, too, the full moon before already. But none of them bore as much emotional importance as the bite at his side, the centre of his suffering. It was the heart of his pain, pumping it through the rest of his body.

He pushed open the bathroom door and stepped out into the hall. It was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet, it was warmer. The house was filled with warmth again, light flooding in through the windows and the door to Jaemin’s bedroom stood half open even when he wasn’t in it, and a plate with biscuits was waiting for him in the kitchen.

Jaemin wasn’t around, but Renjun knew not to worry about that. He knew he was still here. He could feel it.

And true to that, when he stepped out onto the porch with the plate in his hands, he found Jaemin out in the gardens, hurling a small group of garden gnomes into the fields. He turned around when he noticed Renjun’s eyes on him, and the sun shone down on him in all its golden glory, lighting up his hair and his eyes, and he smiled over at him.

Renjun smiled back and stepping out on the grass felt like diving into warm water. The biscuits melted on his tongue like butter. He left the plate on the porch, and Jaemin waited for him by the flowers so they could catch gnomes together.

Nothing had to hurt anymore, and that time, it was not sadness whispering those words into his ear. His bones had mended once more, and as many times as he had to stitch his body back together, he would stitch his heart back together. He was not alone, and he never had to be again, he only had to unlearn the want to be.

But he knew he took a step closer to that with every passing minute.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, when the night was quiet and Jaemin was still next to him, but his breath was going too uneven for him to be asleep. “For all of what I said the other day. It was all a lie. I’m sorry.”

Jaemin didn’t say anything, but that was a good sign. He didn’t pull away from him. Their hands threaded together under the blanket and Renjun breathed out deeply.


	16. sixteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the second update for today, I hope you enjoy! It's personally one of my favorite chapters :)
> 
> Warnings: Nightmares

Renjun woke up to Jaemin twitching next to him.

It was still dark outside and Jaemin was fast asleep, but his arm was twitching, and Renjun slowly moved away from it. The moon shone in through the window, but it was waning, and slowly, he could feel his pulse calm down.

It took him a moment to realize that he had been having a nightmare, one that was already slipping from his mind again, but he still felt shaken. His heart banged against his ribcage, his mind raced to grasp and remember what he’d dreamt, as if the memory could calm him down. His breath came heavy, and he only slowly settled back down.

All he saw in front of his inner eye was images of the dream, flashes of memories like after a full moon night, pictures taken in a split second, of eyes torn wide open and a splatter of blood against the wall, and a scream.

Who screamed? He couldn’t tell, but he wanted to call for help. Had he made someone scream? In fear? Pain?

A warm hand settled against his shoulder, and he looked up to find Jaemin with his eyes half open.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, and he smiled up at Renjun. “It was just a nightmare.” He was so warm, and his hand moved to stroke a thumb over the back of Renjun’s neck. “You’re okay,” he added quietly.

Renjun nodded and pressed his face harder into the pillow. He knew that; he knew he was okay; he knew that he hadn’t hurt anyone, but he still had to squeeze his eyes shut so tightly to get rid of the thoughts. And then the images came back, and he made no noise. Jaemin surely wanted to go back to sleep, he didn’t want to keep him up.

But then Jaemin moved, and Renjun opened his eyes to see him turning to him, eyes wide open.

“Go back to sleep,” Renjun whispered, but Jaemin’s eyes only crescented in a smile, and reached out for him.

Warm hands settled against Renjun’s back, right under his shoulders, softly and without pulling him any closer. He was being so gentle, always mindful of any protests Renjun might raise, anything he might not want, anything that might hurt with the injuries still carefully hidden under his clothes. They stayed like that, a few inches apart, warm.

Jaemin looked at him, just that, he didn’t do anything else, his hands were still against Renjun’s back. His lip quivered with unspoken words, but he kept quiet, so still, wouldn’t move until Renjun did.

There was a hint of fear in his eyes, and it felt like a punch to Renjun’s gut, to realize that Jaemin would not move, would not touch him in any way that Renjun hadn’t previously established anymore, for fear that Renjun would push him away again, that Renjun would tell him to leave again. And while it was sweet that he tried to be so respectful, that he was so mindful, it hurt just a bit, to know that he hadn’t been this careful with him before. That this was Renjun’s fault.

He lowered his head until his forehead rested against Jaemin’s cheek, and their bodies slid closer together.

Jaemin was so warm, and it surrounded Renjun everywhere. The hands on his back, Jaemin’s face against his neck, the minimum of space they left between their chests not enough to stop Jaemin’s body heat from radiating.

“I’m sorry,” Renjun mumbled under his breath. A memory of a scene like this pierced his heart.

Jaemin was silent, and Renjun was almost convinced he had fallen back asleep, but then he moved just slightly, his hand settling a little lower on Renjun’s back, and he said, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“There is,” Renjun replied, but he didn’t elaborate. His heart hurt too much, and Jaemin was so warm around him, surrounding him with a bubble of comfort that he didn’t want to break. The evil images vanished from his brain, and his heart slowed down until he rested more deeply against Jaemin and felt his eyes flutter with fatigue.

The sun would rise to illuminate the words they left unspoken at night, but he didn’t worry about that yet.

Just before they slipped back off into sleep, just as Jaemin’s breathing slowly evened out next to Renjun’s chest, turning shallow in the way Renjun was used to, he leaned up again to press a gentle kiss against his cheek.

He could hear Jaemin’s breath hitch, but he kept his eyes closed and settled back down.

The sun painted freckles on Jaemin’s cheeks and arms, and his head rested next to Renjun’s legs so peacefully, eyes shut to let the light warm up his face. Renjun was sure that he had fallen asleep at least an hour ago, so he didn’t feel bad when he traced patterns along the freckles that littered Jaemin’s forearm.

It was one of the warmest days of the summer, and when Jaemin had fallen asleep, Renjun had taken off his cardigan to expose his overheated arms to the light breeze that brushed over the fields.

Birds were chirping in the trees along the path that led up to the house, insects were humming in the air around his head. The grass was so tall out here he couldn’t see below the crowns of the trees — they’d had to flatten it down so they could spread their blanket. A plate of biscuits was placed in the middle of the blanket, and Renjun had brewed and chilled a bottle of iced tea. It was so much more soothing to drink under the scathing sun.

Jaemin sighed in his sleep, head turning to face Renjun, and Renjun reached over to brush his hair out of his face.

His fingers found their way from his arm to his face, dancing over the patterns the sun had painted on his face so delicately. Jaemin’s nose creased when Renjun brushed over it, and he let his hand fall away, but he kept on looking.

The first time he had seen Jaemin’s freckles had been in the early summer months of their first year at Hogwarts. Exams had been done, and the sun had risen out of its winter den much earlier than the years before, warming the fields around the castle with its golden rays at the end of May. They had piled out of the castle together and Mark had been frazzled at the edges because of his Charms exam, but he had still offered to teach Jaemin some second-year charms.

They had all sat by the lake, with Donghyuck’s head in Renjun’s lap and Jeno spelling their shoes to float over the lake until he almost made them fall into the water and abashedly put his wand back into his bag.

Jaemin and Mark had tolled around the grass a little ways down the hill, wands lighting up with the charms Mark had learned over the year — Jaemin had always been so afraid that he’d fall behind them all in magical abilities, no matter how many times they’d assured him they had known nothing more than him. Renjun had watched them fondly.

He’d been so young back then, he still wouldn’t dare to call it more than friendship. At that point, Jaemin had been his friend, one of his best friends, even, who smiled so widely and laughed so loudly, and who had almost tumbled down the hill.

And when they had come back to join them on the grass, the sun had painted freckles on Jaemin’s face, and Donghyuck had gaped at them, and Renjun had wanted to reach out and brush his hand over them.

Now, he wanted to do the same thing, but he kept his hand to Jaemin’s arm, for fear of waking him up.

He looked up when he heard a rustle above him, expecting to see another swarm of birds lift from the trees and head off into the sky, but instead, what sailed down from the sky was a post owl, and not one he recognized.

It sailed down to land on the blanket in front of him, and he sat up fully to untie the string that bound a letter to its leg. He broke a few crumbs off a biscuit and let the owl pick them out of his hand — it was almost weirdly gentle.

The writing that covered the piece of parchment he unfolded was messy, but he would recognize it anywhere.

It was Jeno’s, telling him that he didn’t have much time to write to him, but he’d wanted to, so he’d sent his family’s fastest owl before he’d head out because — Mark was back. Had only been for a few hours, but he had wanted to head out, Jeno hadn’t known where, but he’d been asked to come along, and he’d just wanted to tell Renjun Mark was back.

Renjun frowned down at the letter. Why would Mark not tell him that he was coming back? It hadn’t been that long since they had last talked, and he’d been sure that if Mark returned, he’d be the first person he’d tell.

It made sense that he’d tell Jeno before him, maybe, now that he thought about it, but from the looks of it, Jeno hadn’t known that Mark was coming back, either, not until Mark had showed up on his doorstep.

He put the letter back down and pet the owl’s head. It was a long way from Jeno’s family’s house up to their house, and no matter how fast this owl was, the way must have still taken it at least a few hours. Had Mark come back in the middle of the night? Jeno had said he’d been back for a few hours at the time he’d written the letter, and they were already a few hours into the afternoon, with the sun inching further towards the horizon.

Renjun watched as the owl took back off towards the sky after he let it have some water.

He banned all thoughts about why Mark hadn’t told him, or anyone, for that matter, about his return, and instead reclined back into his former position, lying halfway down next to Jaemin.

It was such a peaceful day. They had woken up much later than usual, and they’d eaten breakfast out on the porch, eggs and sausages with their toast, and they had found a cat by the small stream and Renjun had lured it in with a few stripes of ham. It had still been sleeping on the porch when he and Jaemin had set out for their picnic in the field.

The breeze rustled in the leaves of the trees, and Renjun watched a ladybug climb a stalk of grass.

Jaemin sighed in his sleep, and Renjun turned around to look at him again. The hair over his forehead had slid back into his face, tickling around his eyes, where his eyelashes cast long shadows over his freckled cheeks.

Renjun reached out to brush it away again, and this time, Jaemin’s eyes blinked open sleepily. Renjun tore his hand away like he had been burnt, heat rushing into his cheeks at having been caught, but Jaemin only smiled at him.

“Sorry, did I fall asleep?” His voice was a tad bit hoarse from sleep, and it made Renjun smile.

“Yes, about an hour ago, probably. I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.”

Jaemin shook his head and pushed himself up on his elbows. His hair fell back into his face, and they both laughed. Renjun took a deep breath and reached out before he could stop himself, brushing it out of his face again, smile never slipping away from his face. Jaemin smiled back, and Renjun’s fingers brushed along his sun-warmed skin.

They still hadn’t talked about what would happen between them, now, after they’d kissed and now that he knew that Jaemin had had a crush on him for years, too. They hadn’t kissed again, and they hadn’t yet sat down to talk about what all of it meant, if they were ready for this kind of step. Renjun didn’t know if he was. He’d been trying to avoid the conversation, hoping that it would take Jaemin a while to muster up the courage, as well.

But Jaemin was warm and comforting, and he wasn’t planning on leaving. He had made that very clear, with his words and his actions the past few days. And maybe Renjun did already know his answer, should Jaemin ask him —

 _Pop!_ Renjun interrupted his thoughts to look over to the source of the apparating sound, frowning.

Jaemin, too, sat up fully to get a look at who had just apparated in front of the house unannounced. The figure stood at the end of the path, long robes nearly touching the ground with how short they were, long hair swaying in the breeze.

“Professor Kwon?” Renjun pushed himself to his feet and waded through the tall grass until he reached the path. Jaemin stayed on the blanket behind him, though he had also gotten up.

Professor Kwon turned around when she heard him, a smile taking over her face, “Ah, Renjun. Hello.” She shook out the sleeves of her robes and took a step closer when he stumbled onto the path. “There you are, I was looking for you.”

“Yes.” Renjun cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I was out there with —”

He cut himself off, but Professor Kwon’s gaze had already wandered in the direction he vaguely gestured in, and her eyes lit up with a spark of mirth when she inevitably caught sight of Jaemin. “Ah,” she made, chuckling. “Mr. Na is here as well, I see. How wonderful that you two are curating your friendship even beyond school.”

Her eyes twinkled a little, and Renjun could feel his face go red with heat. “Right,” he said under his breath.

“Now, Renjun,” Professor Kwon tried to deflect from his embarrassment. “I did come here hoping to get a few words alone with you. Say, do you have any tea at hand? I feel rude asking, but it’s been a quite long day.”

“Of course, of course.” Renjun flicked his wand at the kitchen window to start up a kettle of hot water, before he led Professor Kwon up onto the porch. “Please, have a seat, if you’d like. I apologize for the mess, I wasn’t expecting any company.” Another flick of his wand cleaned up the dirty cups and the small stack of books on the table on the porch.

The cat he had lured onto the porch earlier was still there, raising its head but remaining largely unbothered.

“No worries.” Professor Kwon sat down just as two steaming cups of tea floated out of the kitchen door and settled on the table in front of her. “I realize I am here unannounced. Please, sit down with me?”

Nervously, Renjun took the other seat. The presence of the Headmistress would likely always turn him into the nervous student he had been for seven years, even when he’d become head boy and had spent a lot more time in her presence than the usual student. Though Professor Kwon sipped on her tea, seeming unhurried.

“Professor, can I ask for the reason of your visit? What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Ah, yes.” She set the cup down on the table between them, next to Renjun’s untouched one. “I apologize, it really has been a tremendously exhausting day. In fact, I’m coming straight from my office at Hogwarts, where I was visited by your dear friends Mark Lee and Jeno Lee. They had a rather urgent request.”

Renjun raised an eyebrow. Mark had urged Jeno to accompany him on a trip to Hogwarts?

Professor Kwon cleared her throat. “Renjun, Mark let me know that you’ve been dreaming of teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts since you were a small child. Is that correct?”

“I —” Renjun blinked, feeling his eyes go big. “I mean, yes, but I’m afraid that isn’t possible, Professor —”

“If you still believe that anything is impossible, then _I’m_ afraid that our teachers have failed to teach you Hogwarts’s greatest lesson.” She winked at him before her face took on a more calm expression. “Renjun, you were one of our best students during all of the years you spent at our school, and I have never heard anything but praise for you from all your former teachers. There was a reason we made you our head boy in your last year. No condition of yours will ever take away from your academic and social excellence, and you would be more than welcome to start your training with the new school year. The position of the teacher for Transfiguration is in dire need of a future option, anyway.”

Renjun felt his mouth hang open, and he had to consciously close it and swallow hard. “Professor, I —”

Professor Kwon put a warm hand against his shoulder. “I understand if you refuse. Your life has sure presented you with unforeseen obstacles, and I would understand if you would want to get them in order first before taking such a step.”

Quickly, Renjun shook his head. “No, no, absolutely not, Professor. I’ve dreamed of this for years, this _is_ what I want. Thank you — thank you so much.” He had long given up on this dream, and now it felt almost unreal. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.” Professor Kwon gave him a gentle smile. “I would never turn someone like you away. Hogwarts has a place for everyone who desires to be there.”

“I —” Renjun had to swallow again before he could speak. “Thank you so much.”

She nodded. “Of course, if I had learned of this earlier, you could have started your training over the summer already, but no worries, we will catch you up to speed in no time. I will owl you all further details, if that is all right.”

“Of course.” He nodded, too, and watched as Professor Kwon finished her tea and got back up.

“All right, I’m sorry for coming by unannounced, but I wanted to make this offer in person, not in a letter. I have another meeting to attend now, though. Thank you very much for the tea, it helped a lot.”

Renjun showed her off the porch, still too overwhelmed with what had happened in the last few minutes to say anything. She gave him one last wave before she took a few steps down the path, and apparated.

Renjun turned straight around and walked back into the house.

It only took a few moments for Jaemin to follow him inside, and he did so to find Renjun sitting at the kitchen table, resting his head in his hands. He still couldn’t believe what had just happened, that Professor Kwon had just showed up at his house to tell him that his childhood dream that he had long given up on would come true.

If he was looking for a sign that this was not the end of his life, he thought this was it.

“Renjun?” Jaemin asked, sounding careful, taking a few steps towards him. “What did she say? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Renjun lifted his face out of his hands to look at Jaemin, and his lips pulled into a smile involuntarily, his eyes filling up with tears that he couldn’t stop. His heart beat in his throat.

Jaemin immediately took a step closer, a hand reaching for him before he realized that Renjun wasn’t _crying,_ not for sadness, at least. Stunned, he blinked at Renjun. “Well, what did she say?”

“She said that I can start training to be a teacher with the start of the new school year.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up, and the change in his expression filled Renjun’s heart with so much glee that he felt he might suffocate on it. This was a happy moment, he knew that, and he had to tell that to himself. This was one of those happy things that he had to remind himself he was allowed to feel and to enjoy. This luck, and the smile on Jaemin’s face.

“Renjun, that’s amazing.” Jaemin crossed the distance between them with a few quick steps. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled into the hands that covered his mouth to not let the shock bleed out. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Me neither. Merlin, what the hell.” Jaemin laughed, and his face was purely happy. “Let me give you a hug.”

Renjun shot out of his chair to let Jaemin wrap his arms around him. Because he deserved this — he deserved the happiness and the warmth and Jaemin being proud of him. He deserved this opportunity, because he had worked all his life for it, and it was unfair, yes it was _unfair,_ that something had ripped it away from him.

But now he had it again. And he deserved it, and he deserved to feel good about it.

Jaemin’s hug was warm, his arms were firm and steady around Renjun, and this felt like a hug Jaemin would have given him before they’d fought. This felt like Jaemin wasn’t afraid he’d break, like he shouldn’t.

The joy that crashed through Renjun’s body was so intense it was hard to feel anything else, hard to even think. It was nothing but pure happiness, elating him, setting his nerves ablaze, heart beating hard, as if it wanted to cry out in delight with every pound against his ribcage. It was the same unadulterated ecstasy he saw in Jaemin’s face when he pulled his face away from their hug. The cheer sparkled in his eyes, and his smile only got wider by the second.

So many times Renjun had tried to remember the first time he had wanted to lean over and kiss Jaemin’s smile. That day, he didn’t wonder. In that very moment, before he could stop himself, he only leaned up and did it.

Jaemin’s breath hitched again, and it was a sound Renjun thought he could get used to. If this was what Jaemin sounded like every time Renjun initiated anything affectionate between them, he could get used to it.

Jaemin kissed him back so gently, the arms he’d already had around him only tightening, and they melted against each other the same way they had the first time. It was warm and fuzzy and it made Renjun’s head spin even when he had been the one to initiate it, and he never wanted to let go. This felt like comfort, and he deserved it.

Just like he had worked so hard for this job opportunity, he had spent too much time falling for Jaemin to not let himself enjoy Jaemin reciprocating. It lit him on fire, and he loved every second of it.

They parted to catch their breath, and this time, all Renjun felt was impossibly more happiness crashing through his veins when Jaemin smiled at him, and Renjun kissed him again, and Jaemin smiled into the kiss. And when they sat down at the table to kiss some more and Renjun cradled Jaemin’s beautiful face between his hands, a tear slipped past his lashes, and neither of them mentioned it. It was overwhelming for both of them, in more ways than one.

Renjun felt on top of the world, in more ways than one.

Just a few hours later, Renjun fell asleep with his head rested in the crook of Jaemin’s shoulder, Jaemin’s arm wrapped around him, and his own arm curling over Jaemin’s chest. The air in Jaemin’s bedroom was always so warm, always smelled so much like Jaemin, had a softness to it that Renjun had no words to describe.

But it was good, it was comfort, in all the ways Jaemin was, too.

He shifted even closer to Jaemin, until there was no space between them. And in the quiet of the room, just before he fell asleep and his mind was too far gone to stop him, he whispered, “I love you.”

Jaemin froze, his hand tightening around Renjun’s shoulder. And there it was again, that hitch in his breath. Renjun smiled to himself. “I love you, too,” Jaemin whispered back, and it sounded so honest.

 _I love you,_ Renjun repeated in his head, just for himself. He’d wanted to say that for so long.

And hopefully, soon enough, there would be more truth in it when he said that to himself, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! :) Leave a kudos or a comment
> 
> See you on Wednesday with the second to last chapter!


	17. seventeen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! I was too busy to update on Wednesday again, so I will post both the last chapters today! Hope you look forward to them!!
> 
> Warnings: description of scars

The house was brimming with life again, and Renjun’s heart was just as full.

His family closed the shop for a day to come and visit, and his father made them lunch while Renjun, his brothers and their mother huddled around the kitchen table, exchanging stories.

Xuxi had been promoted at the hospital, which had been a surprise because it hadn’t been that long since he had completed his training, but now he could work in the field he had always aimed for, and Renjun could read from the glow in his eyes how happy he was about that. Guanheng, too, was almost ready to keep the family store by himself, which their mother seemed to be incredibly relieved about, because it meant she’d have more time to focus on her actual job.

Chenle had spent most of his summer with his friends — his best friend, a Hufflepuff called Park Jisung, had a nice little lake house that they spent at least three weeks in, lazing and playing muggle video games.

And Kun turned bright red when their mother elbowed him in the side and urged him to tell them what he had been doing over the summer. As it turned out, the very colleague of his that he’d tried to hand supplies years ago — when he’d fallen to his near death, and this very colleague had caught him — and he had been spending a _lot_ of time together.

Renjun nudged Kun’s other side and wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, what’s his name?”

“Ten.” Kun’s face was still a little red, and he cleared his throat. “His name is Ten. He’s — he’s very fun.”

Renjun could barely contain a giggle. “Oh, how nice,” he said, but as he should soon be reminded, he really had no room to make fun of Kun for his very obvious infatuation.

Not even half a second later, Chenle sat up straight in his chair, so fast that the hair over his forehead bopped up, and sent Renjun a gigantic grin over the table. “So,” he started dramatically. “How’s it going with _your_ boy?”

Renjun kept his eyes on the cabinet next to his father’s head, warmth flushing his cheeks as the rest of his family turned to look at him. Even Kun raised his eyebrows, which Renjun supposed was fair, he’d just made fun of him, too. He let his eyes flit over to where Jaemin was talking to his father, leaned against the counter and just out of earshot.

“It’s going okay,” he said calmly, trying not to smile at the way Chenle spluttered, and failing miserably.

“So he _is_ your boy?”

Renjun raised an eyebrow, shrugged to appear as nonchalant as possible, even though embarrassment was coursing through him quite hotly. “Is he?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Chenle and smiled, before he looked back to Jaemin.

It was nice, to have people over, filling the house with noise and presence. They had been on their own for most of the summer, except for the few days that Donghyuck, Jeno and Elkie had visited. And it had been nice, to be away from everyone, it had helped Renjun come to terms with a lot of things, even if it had at times felt like the opposite.

But having people around again felt even nicer, when his mother laughed and slapped Guanheng on the back, when the smell of his father’s food filled the kitchen he’d grown up in and Jaemin got along so well with his family.

Chenle tried to tickle more information about him and Jaemin out of Renjun (“So, is he your _boyfriend_ now?”), but Renjun sealed his lips shut and caught his mother’s smiling eyes from across the table.

Plates floated over to set down in front of them and their father carried the finished food over to the table and Chenle shut up about what he’d already dubbed the _Jaemin thing_ when he had a spoonful of stew in his mouth. Renjun wasn’t embarrassed when Jaemin sat down next to him and their shoulders brushed and Guanheng wiggled his eyebrows at him and Kun smiled into his food. His cheeks grew warm, but it wasn’t from embarrassment.

He was just glad that they were all there.

And the visits didn’t stop. His parents had had to leave in the evening, hadn’t been able to spend the night because they’d needed to be up early the next day to open shop, and his mother had had a meeting at the ministry.

His brothers had stayed the night, though, and they had hogged Renjun in his room and he’d been forced to sleep between them instead of in Jaemin’s room. It had been okay, though, because Jaemin had joined them halfway through the night, too lonely in his own bed, and he had fallen asleep with his cheek cushioned on Renjun’s palm and Renjun had spent half an hour combing through his hair with his free hand when he had woken up first the next morning.

It wasn’t embarrassing to be cheesy if no one was around to see it, and Jaemin’s hair felt so very soft.

His brothers had also raided their fridge at breakfast that morning, despite Jaemin freely offering his amazing cooking. Renjun had tried to warn him about how much his family ate, but it had already been too late and half the fridge had been empty when Kun had set to preparing some _proper_ breakfast for them.

Jaemin had only blinked at them as he’d chewed on his own eggs, and Renjun had been quick to make them leave.

But once they had finally left and apparated down the path, Xuxi with Chenle tucked under his arm, he and Jaemin only got a few hours of peace to finish eating and sit out on the porch with a blanket over their legs.

It was getting a little chillier again, and Renjun no longer had to feel bad about wearing cardigans and drinking his pain potions (which he had started brewing by his old recipe again, to avoid accidentally overdosing again) with his tea. Jaemin, too, sat outside with him in a loosely knitted sweater and with a cup of coffee between his fingers.

Their voices floated gently over the fields. Jaemin had bought a N.E.W.T. level Muggle Studies book on a trip to Diagon Alley a few days prior, and they’d been spending their time sitting over it, as Jaemin tried to explain to Renjun the wonders of technology — and Renjun tried to follow, really, but he was just so distracted most of the time. Jaemin let him rest his legs over his, and they sat close enough together for their shoulders to brush, and Jaemin’s voice was comforting.

They barely had gotten through a page of the book when Donghyuck’s family owl landed on the railing of the porch, the letter that Jaemin got up to fetch announcing that they all — they _all_ — would come over for dinner that night.

“You’d almost think they lived here with how they just invited themselves,” Renjun said half an hour later, as he was standing up on the couch and swishing his wand to mop the floors and clean the dust off the cabinets.

Jaemin chuckled to his right, in the kitchen, already preparing dinner. On a normal day, they would’ve just had some leftover potato stew Renjun’s father had made the day before, now stored in the fridge, but neither of them was prepared for their friends nagging at being served warmed up food, and Renjun wasn’t sure if there was enough stew left for everyone, anyway. Instead, Jaemin got to showcase his over the top cooking spells, chopping carrots and frying beef.

It was a fascinating endeavour, even if Renjun liked to pretend that Jaemin’s pretentious show got on his nerves. He still sat at the table and watched as the cleaning utensils he had charmed cleaned out the living room.

Jaemin cracked an egg into his pan and smiled at Renjun as he flipped it all professionally.

“Are you even allowed to use magic in your parents’ kitchen?” Renjun asked, balancing his chin on his hands. “One would think they would regard that as some kind of blasphemy.”

Jaemin laughed, but he shrugged and said, “You’re right, actually, I’m not allowed. They think it’s cheating, and that everyone can cook with magic. They clearly have never tasted anything Jeno’s cooked with magic.”

“That’s mean.” Renjun still couldn’t hold back a grin. He got up to watch what Jaemin was doing over his shoulder.

“Maybe.” Jaemin hummed as he cracked a second egg into the pan. “In any case, at least I know how to cook both ways. Even if cooking without magic tends to be a little annoying. It’s still an art form.”

“Mhm.” Renjun leaned his cheek against Jaemin’s shoulder. “Will you ever show me your cooking without magic?”

Jaemin looked down at him, raising an eyebrow when he found Renjun already smiling at him. A reciprocating smile slowly crept onto his face. “It doesn’t taste any different from when I cook with magic,” he said, but the smile that slowly spread wider on his face told Renjun that he knew exactly what Renjun wanted.

“Mmm, I think you will have to convince me of that first.”

“You don’t believe me?” Jaemin’s smile turned teasing as he angled his head down and Renjun leaned up closer to him, just to get a better reach. Jaemin’s cheeks turned a little pink. “Well, then I guess I will have to show you.”

Kissing Jaemin was still new, and weird, even though they’d been doing it a lot more over the past few days. It felt warm, his lips were warm and gentle and the hand he put against Renjun’s back to steady him let warmth shoot up his spine. But it also felt strange, the tickling in his stomach and the sparks in the tips of his fingers. He wanted to pull Jaemin even closer, run a hand through his soft hair and hear him sigh, but his face burnt at the thought.

He raised a hand to put against the side of Jaemin’s face, though, just to feel his skin under his fingers, warm and soft, and to angle his own face a little better, find a better rhythm and have Jaemin closer.

A _pop_ sounded behind them, and they flinched apart like their lips had been burnt.

Renjun whipped his head around to find Jeno staring at them with his mouth wide open. Mark hovered right by his shoulder, and his eyebrows seemed close to vanishing into his hairline, eyes blown wide open as he stared at them.

“What the —” Jeno was the first time to speak, closely followed by Renjun’s,

“Aren’t you a bit early?” and he hated how squeaky his voice sounded. His hand cramped into Jaemin’s arm.

“I don’t remember Donghyuck naming a specific time,” Jeno responded, but he had yet to resume blinking normally. It drove a burning heat into Renjun’s cheeks and when he finally looked up at Jaemin, he found him to be in a similar state.

Not five seconds after Jeno had said that, another pop resounded through the kitchen and, almost knocking down the potted plant Jaemin had artfully placed on the counter just a few days before, Donghyuck fell onto one of their chairs.

Jeno immediately took to throwing himself towards Donghyuck and wailing, so loud Renjun felt the need to cover his ears, “Donghyuck, we apparated in on Renjun and Jaemin snogging.”

Donghyuck’s eyebrows flew almost as high up his forehead as Mark’s had as he caught Jeno’s head against his chest, but a wide grin chased the change in his expression, and he wiggled his eyebrows at Renjun. “Ah, finally. Someone has gotten their head out of their arse, I was starting to question if it would ever happen.”

Renjun rolled his eyes, but his lips pulled up into a smile, too, and that finally broke Jeno and Mark out of their stun.

“We didn’t know you’d be here so early,” Jaemin finally spoke up, taking a step away from Renjun to turn back to the food he had momentarily abandoned. “Dinner isn’t done yet, if you can wait?”

They absolutely could, but not without abducting Renjun from the kitchen and the warm arms of his boyfriend to ambush him in the living room. Donghyuck specifically wrapped a tight arm around Renjun’s neck while he threw Jaemin a big smile and reassured him that they were fine to wait for as long as it took, before he pulled Renjun along with him.

He was placed on the sofa and immediately surrounded by his friends. The only way out would have been a dramatic dive over the backrest, and he wasn’t sure if he was willing to risk dislocating his still faintly aching shoulder again.

“So.” Donghyuck folded his hands in his lap, looking Renjun intently up and down. “You two finally got it together.”

Renjun snorted through his nose. “We did, indeed.” He folded his own legs under him, deciding that an escape was neither smart nor necessary. “I did get your letter, though, when we had already made up. Gave me a good chuckle.”

Donghyuck grinned at him, and despite all the drama that he simply had to put on, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t, Renjun caught a spark in his eyes when he smiled, one that told him that Donghyuck was truly happy for him. Merlin only knew for how long he had harboured a crush on Jaemin, and for how long he had annoyed Donghyuck with it every night they had had to sleep next to each other. Now that he knew that Jaemin had had a crush on him for almost as long — had Donghyuck known about that, too? Had he been tortured from both sides for years?

Jeno, at his side, was a lot more open about his happiness for them, and he threw a warm arm around Renjun’s shoulders and squeezed him against his chest. “I know I promised I wouldn’t pressure you but — thank Merlin. Finally.”

Renjun laughed and slapped his chest, and he freed himself only because the pressure was a bit uncomfortable.

Mark looked at him with a smile that reflected in his eyes, and while he didn’t say anything just yet, the gentleness with which he squeezed Renjun’s hand spoke a thousand words.

“Don’t think we two are done just yet.” Donghyuck waved his finger into Renjun’s face and gave him a stern look. “I will never let you forget how much of an idiot you were about this. Absolute knobhead behaviour.”

Renjun smiled to himself when Donghyuck moved on to catapult his knees with his fists in a childlike manner. Of course Donghyuck wouldn’t simply let him get away with a few honest smiles and a hug. There was more he had done, more to be done, and Donghyuck wouldn’t be Donghyuck if he didn’t thoroughly bully him for it.

But just before Donghyuck could start a tirade about why he had been such an idiot, Jaemin poked his head through the door to announce that he was done, and yell at them to help him get the things on the table.

Donghyuck squinted his eyes at Renjun as they trailed out of the living room, but Renjun only smiled back.

It was warm, to have them all around again. They filled the house with light and laughter, and their little friend group didn’t even fill half of the table in the large dining room, but it still felt different from eating at the little kitchen table.

Jeno had put on a fire in the fireplace even though it was probably too warm for that, but it gave a homey feel to the room, and they were all too busy talking to care about the heat, anyway.

Mark told stories about his travels, everything he would have said in the letters he’d never had time to write, except that Jeno very much so seemed to know most of the stories, and didn’t seem to try to be inconspicuous about it. Renjun smiled into a spoonful of rice and decided not to comment on it, especially when Jeno leaned against Mark’s shoulder.

The weeks they’d spent in the Netherlands together at the start of the summer had done them well, apparently.

Donghyuck didn’t have any more stories to tell — what was there to tell when he had been stuck with his abundance of siblings and cousins in their family’s houses, and he’d been so bored that he had written to them almost every day?

Renjun and Jaemin were forced at wand point to reiterate their tragic love story — Donghyuck already knew most of what had happened leading up to their fight and during it, because Jaemin had basically apparated out of Renjun’s hallway and into Donghyuck’s lap, but even Jeno and Mark seemed rather interested in what had happened between them the past few weeks. Renjun was very grateful that Jaemin spared his friends any kiss-y, cheesy details.

“In conclusion, they’re both wankers.” Donghyuck leaned back in his chair. “With no common sense.”

Renjun flicked a soggy piece of carrot at him, and smiled when Donghyuck dissolved into a mess of loud protest.

They stayed up until well after midnight, huddled around the big table, with stories to tell and memories to relive — Renjun had been so busy worrying about his own personal dilemma that he had almost forgotten that they were all adults now, that they wouldn’t all return to Hogwarts once summer ended, that their days at school were over.

There was so much to retell, so much to relive, seven years of friendship and counting. Things they might have forgotten, things the others still remembered. From the time Mark had fallen down nearly the entirety of the big stairs and had gotten away with nothing more than a sprained finger, over the time Donghyuck and Jeno had almost drowned each other in the lake, to the time all five of them had been on detention because Renjun had almost set the library on fire.

“Remember in fifth year when Donghyuck wouldn’t talk to me for all of two weeks because Ravenclaw won the Quidditch cup?” Jaemin had a warm arm thrown around Renjun, and it wasn’t even embarrassing. It was just warm.

“And I was right to!” Donghyuck rudely gestured in Jaemin’s direction, face immediately turning red with agitation at the mere memory. “You wouldn’t have won if your Beater hadn’t completely knocked Jungwoo off his broom!”

A big grin spread on Jaemin’s face, one that would only bother Donghyuck more. “Well, maybe, but he wasn’t even hurt, so it didn’t count as a disqualification. It’s the Beaters’ job to hinder players from playing, Hyuckie. And I’m still wounded that the only reason you started talking to me again was because you wanted to copy my Charms homework.”

Donghyuck pouted. “Your homework wasn’t even good, either,” he spat, but there was no actual heat behind it.

They moved on as Jeno recounted their sixth year, when Hufflepuff had won the Quidditch cup, surprisingly so after they had been absolutely destroyed by the Slytherins earlier in the year, and they had all piled into the Hufflepuff common room to get drunk on Firewhiskey that Donghyuck and Jaemin hadn’t been allowed to drink yet, but had done anyway. And Jeno, apparently, had been so drunk that he had for the first time confessed to Mark that he liked him.

Renjun’s mouth fell open. “Wait — for how long have you two been a thing? I thought this was a recent development.”

Jeno shook his head, and both he and Mark turned a little red in the face. “Well, we haven’t been actually together for that long, because Mark actually turned me down back then,” Jeno admitted. “He was about to graduate and start training as a teacher, and — well, it just wouldn’t have looked very good if he was a teacher and I was still a student.”

“So we waited until the summer after you all graduated to, well, do something about it,” Mark added.

Renjun blinked at both of them, before he looked around at Donghyuck and Jaemin to gauge their reaction, but they didn’t look half as surprised as he felt. “And am I the only one here who didn’t know that this was going on?”

Jaemin shrugged at him. “Jeno told me at the start of our seventh year,” he said, and from across the table Donghyuck mouthed something that looked like _Me too._ “I suppose Mark’s just a lot better at keeping secrets than Jeno.”

Jeno made an affronted noise, but Mark rubbed his arm with a grin and he settled back into his chair.

When Renjun and Jaemin finally got up at some point hours after midnight to spell the table clean and let the plates and glasses float back into their cabinets (and sneak a kiss or two in the kitchen, shielded from their friends’ eyes), they were all quite tired and soon trickled upstairs into their assigned rooms, one after another.

Renjun pressed a quick kiss to Jaemin’s lips when he heard Donghyuck on the stairs and told him to go ahead. He waited until Jeno followed Donghyuck, and caught Mark at the dining room door before he could do the same.

“Mark,” he said, stepping in front of him, and Mark’s eyes flew open so wide in surprise that it made Renjun laugh a little. He reached out to slap his hands against the sides of Mark’s face, gently, and grin up at him. “Thank you.”

Mark raised both of his eyebrows. “What for?”

“For talking to Professor Kwon.” Renjun had to swallow around a knot in his throat, threat of tears at the pure thought. “I never would’ve thought that this was still possible for me. I would’ve completely given up on it if it wasn’t for you.”

“Oh,” Mark breathed out. “Oh, yes, you’re welcome. I mean, you don’t have to thank me for that.”

“But I want to,” Renjun insisted. “It’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, Mark, really.”

Mark nodded, and when Renjun opened his arms to wrap him in a hug, he indulged him immediately. Renjun decided not to comment on it when Mark tucked his face against his neck, and they stood in silence for a little while.

It wasn’t awkward when they climbed the stairs together, or when they said goodnight in front of the room Jeno was already waiting in. Mark gave a tiny squeeze to Renjun’s arm, and Renjun smiled at him, and it was good.

Renjun continued on up the stairs and slid into the golden light of Jaemin’s — their room.

Jaemin was already sprawled out on the bed, his side of the blanket thrown over his legs and arms folded over his head. He almost seemed to be asleep, until Renjun let the door fall shut with a click, and Jaemin opened an eye.

“Hey,” he mumbled when Renjun had changed into his pyjamas and crawled into bed. “What were you doing?”

“I wanted to personally thank Mark for talking to Professor Kwon. If it wasn’t for him, I never would’ve gotten the spot.”

Jaemin looked up at him, and his eyes were so round and soft in the mellow light that fell in through the window that Renjun leaned over to press a kiss to his nose. Jaemin smiled at him even more softly when he came back up to look at him.

“You deserve this so much, you know?” he said, running a hand through Renjun’s hair, probably leaving it tousled, but Renjun didn’t care. He settled against Jaemin’s body so they could tangle their legs together under the blanket and still look at each other, and Jaemin let him before he continued, “This opportunity. I know for how long you’ve wanted this.”

“Stop getting all cheesy on me, you’re gonna make me go all gooey,” Renjun chided him, but he still smiled. It did warm his heart, to see the honesty in Jaemin’s eyes and hear it bleed out of his words. It was a good feeling.

And it was always good to remind himself that he deserved good things.

Jaemin smiled back at him, and his eyes sparkled with the amount of affection in them. It was a bit overwhelming.

“Jaemin,” he whispered, sobering up a little. Jaemin visibly perked up at his tone, and Renjun swallowed. “Oh dear, this is so weird, but, um — would you like to see my scars? The bite, I mean.”

Jaemin’s expression changed into something Renjun couldn’t decipher, but it wasn’t negative.

He knew that Jaemin had most likely already seen them, but there was still a difference between Jaemin glancing over them while Renjun was unconscious and littered with injuries, and him deliberately showing them to him.

Slowly, Jaemin nodded. “If you’re willing to show them to me, then yes, of course.”

They sat up and pushed the blanket away and Renjun lit up his wand with a hushed Lumos, and really, this was by far the most embarrassing situation he’d ever been in with Jaemin. No matter how much he wanted this to be a cute and important moment, his cheeks burnt so hard it almost drove tears into his eyes as he lifted up his shirt at the seams.

He never had a problem with his upper body being exposed in front of his friends — and Jaemin was far more than that, now — but this was different. This was the manifestation of all the demons that had been haunting him, and something that only very few people had seen, and never because he’d wanted them to, but because they’d had to. The healers that had stitched him back together, and his parents through the tears in their eyes when he’d been spread out on that hospital bed, desperately clinging onto life as it had slipped from his hands.

He had been so very careful to hide his side ever since. Donghyuck had seen the large bandage that had covered his side for the first few weeks after he’d returned to school, but once it had been off, he’d been careful to turn away or wait until the dorm had cleared out before he’d changed. In all the weeks he and Jaemin had stayed in this house, he had never once changed in front of him, or even so much as worn a too lofty shirt that could possibly ride up his chest.

Now, though — he wanted this. He wanted Jaemin to see them. He swallowed hard and lifted his shirt up just enough, just pushed up under the pit of his left arm, so he could pull it back down anytime.

Jaemin sat very still, didn’t move any closer even when Renjun angled his body just right for the light to catch on the silvery cluster of scars. It made an ugly picture, scratch and tooth marks ripping through the skin, a clear imprint of the wolf’s jaw, and everywhere where his skin had broken as a result, only adorned by the surrounding scars.

Jaemin just looked at them, and he was so quiet, and Renjun’s face burned.

“You can touch me,” he said very quietly. “You don’t have to treat me like I’m going to break.”

Jaemin looked like he had hit him in the face, eyes wide and lips just parted. “I’m sorry,” he hurried to say. “I didn’t mean to — I didn’t know if you’d want me to —”

“I want you to,” Renjun cut him off gently. “You’ll know when I don’t want you to touch me, you’ll lose a limb. But as long as that’s not the case, please assume that you’re welcome to touch me. That I _want_ you to.”

Jaemin’s adam’s apple visibly bopped and his fingers visibly shook when he reached out for Renjun.

But then he was there, a brush of fingertips over the scars, like Renjun’s own so many times, and then a palm, warm and steady. It rested over the bite, covered almost all of it in warmth, and a sob ripped through Renjun as he keeled over.

Immediately, Jaemin’s other hand came to catch his head, holding the side of his face and cradling him against his chest. “What’s wrong?” he sounded rather panicked, and Renjun felt bad. “Renjun, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Renjun nodded. He wasn’t actually crying, no tear had spilled past his eyes despite them getting wet, but the sob had escaped him before he could’ve stopped it — he’d been holding it in for too long, and he realized that what was flooding him was relief, not anything else. “I’m okay,” he whispered. “Please don’t stop touching me.”

Jaemin didn’t, even when Renjun pulled his shirt back down. He kept his hands on his sides, on his arms, digging his fingers into his shoulders and threading them with Renjun’s fingers.

Renjun extinguished the light of his wand, and they settled back under the comforter. Locked their ankles across each other and Renjun smiled into the darkness. Jaemin ran his thumb across his cheekbone. Renjun kissed his nose again.

“Thank you for showing me that,” Jaemin whispered. “I love you.”

Renjun leaned over to press his lips to Jaemin’s in earnest, to kiss him like he deserved, deeply, honestly. It still made sparks crash up in his nerves, his lips prickled where they touched Jaemin’s and it filled his head with warmth. How did he get this lucky? Jaemin slid a soft hand into his hair to hold him, and Renjun only wanted him closer.

“I love you, too.” And with Jaemin’s face bedded on his hand and his eyes on him, sparkly and soft as they were, he really meant it.

The others stayed around until Jaemin’s birthday, and Renjun wasn’t going to complain. They were noisy, and a lot, with Jeno and Donghyuck basically bouncing off the walls, the way Donghyuck chased Mark down every hall to bother him, and the way Jaemin lit up, too, especially with Jeno around. But the house had been quiet for far too long.

Renjun enlisted Donghyuck’s help for a mildly disastrous attempt at baking a cake for Jaemin, and although the result was a little deformed and mostly dry, and Jeno had stolen some of the decorations to pop into Mark’s mouth, Jaemin’s eyes still lit up when they set it down on the table in front of him. He blew out the candles and cut it into pieces for them all to share, and really, it was too sweet and too dry, but they ate until there was nothing of it left.

The others had gotten small knick knacks as gifts for Jaemin, and his smile radiated the heat of a thousand suns as he unpacked them. Renjun’s present he’d already received in the morning, in the form of a small stack of envelopes and a bright red blush on Renjun’s cheeks. All the letters he had written to Jaemin and never sent in the month before Jaemin had come here, with his name calligraphed on the fronts of the envelopes and all the cheesy lines he had written for him.

Jaemin swept him in for a kiss in front of their friends, and Renjun fought back the heat in his face when they cheered.

It was good, Renjun knew that. Things were good, he felt good, and he deserved it. His friends were warm to have around and Jaemin was smiling under the golden light of the big chandelier and he was happy.

They all slept in the living room that night, too stuffed full with cake and too drunk to move, and Renjun fell asleep with Jaemin’s head in his lap, carding his fingers through his hair, and his own head against Donghyuck’s arm, with Jeno pressed against his back where he was holding onto Mark, and things finally fell back into place.


	18. eighteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go! The last chapter, wah I'm so emotional, I hope you enjoy :')
> 
> Warnings: talk of bad coping, talk of fighting and "ugly" trauma

The sun was shining down on his head as Renjun pulled his trunk up the path to the castle. It was a warm day, probably one of the last ones they would have that year, and the summer breeze crept up the sleeves of his shirt.

He was alone. The fields of grass stretching in every direction were empty of the students that usually lazed around on them because there were still almost two weeks to go until the school year would start. He didn’t mind the silence, not anymore, was even glad for it when he climbed the front stairs and was greeted by nothing but silence inside.

It would allow him some time to adjust, at least, before the students filled the halls again.

Instinct almost led him down the stairs into the dungeons, though he knew that they were no longer his home. It was almost eerie, to know that other students would fill those rooms, now, and that he would be around to watch generations of them come and go. His bed down there had never been his, but it still felt strange to never return to it.

He’d received all details about his training in a letter from Professor Kwon the day after Jaemin’s birthday, and he knew that he would stay on one of the upper levels, never too far from where anyone could reach him. Close to Mark.

Maybe Professor Kwon had known how important proximity to his friends was for him, now more than ever.

The office was still mostly empty — nothing more than a desk, a chair, a cabinet and the lamp that dangled from the ceiling. But he knew how fast that could change, if he wanted it to. His chambers, too, were only a bed and a closet, and a small adjoining bathroom. Nothing special, but he could turn it into something.

The only thing that stuck out, when he had set his trunk down at the foot of the bed and entered the office again, was a stack of books on the desk that hadn’t been there before. And on top of it sat a letter, neatly tied with a ribbon.

He stepped closer to pick it up and break the red Hogwarts seal.

Of course, it was only Professor Ji welcoming him as her apprentice and telling him how delighted she was to teach one of her best students (this did boost Renjun’s ego just a little bit) to take over her spot one day. She’d left the books, too, as they were some of her favorites to get more familiar with the subject of Transfiguration even beyond the N.E.W.T. level material. One of them in particular, though, she wrote, touched on the topic of teaching magic in general.

 _You are no longer my student, but a colleague, so it feels inadequate to me to give you homework,_ she wrote, and it brought a smile to Renjun’s face. _But I would still appreciate it if you made yourself familiar with these books in the coming few weeks. They will help you further your understanding of both teaching, and the subject you will teach._

Renjun carried the books back into the small bedroom, and set them down on the tiny bedside table.

Sitting down on his bed, though, he realized one thing: No matter how much he wanted this, no matter how many times he had talked to Mark about his experiences last year, no matter how much everything was going fine, he was still scared. His anxiety still flared at the thought that this could easily all turn out for the worse, that a student could find out about his condition and tell their parents, that the ministry could come and arrest him for the endangerment of minors.

There was so much that could go wrong, and the relief of finally being _there_ didn’t do much to ease his anxiety.

He’d written a letter to Professor Kwon about it, before he’d come here, and she’d assured him that the ministry wouldn’t be able to touch him under her protection, and that she would put measures in place for him not to be found out.

He wanted to trust her. He did — with coming here he put his life in her hands, not only because she would pay him his living, but also because she could make one call to the ministry and have him spend the rest of his life on the outskirts of wizarding society, far away from everyone and everything he loved.

It was a dangerous thing to play with, but he had long made the decision that he was willing to try. Because he hated being alone, and because he deserved to live the life he wanted, not the one that would make him the least inconvenient.

So he sat up against the headboard and picked the first book off Professor Ji’s stack.

Renjun woke to the sound of a knock on the door, and only then did he realize that he fell asleep. He’d made it through the first chapter of the book, had even started jotting down some notes, but now it was splayed open in his lap.

He hurried to put it away and order his hair and clothes before he went for the door of the office.

The sun was much lower in the sky by then, throwing orange stripes along the bare walls, and Renjun wondered how long he must have slept. It’d been an exhausting day, packing and moving his stuff out of the house, even if Jaemin had helped him, apparating to Hogsmeade and having a way too long chat with Mrs. Lee before he’d walked to the castle.

He opened the door to reveal Jaemin, who only had to take one good look at him before a grin spread on his face. “Oh, someone had a good nap,” he said, shouldering past Renjun into the room. “Were you that tired?”

Renjun hummed, but didn’t bother with an answer. Jaemin knew it anyway, it wasn’t like they needed the talking much. “Why are you here already? I thought you said you’d come tomorrow.”

“You sure sound like you’ve missed me,” Jaemin teased, pout drawing on his face.

“I saw you this morning.” Renjun sat on the edge of his desk and regarded Jaemin as he had an intense look around the empty room. “And we spent all the last few weeks together. I thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

Jaemin spun around to him, a grin taking over his face. “Never,” he singsonged, probably because he knew that it was what Renjun wanted to hear, secretly. He crossed the distance between them, hands settling on Renjun’s shoulders. Renjun’s legs automatically locked around him. It’d become so easy to be close to Jaemin.

“Maybe we shouldn’t taint my workplace on the first day,” Renjun whispered against Jaemin’s lips when they kissed.

“Taint?” Jaemin chuckled. His hand came up to frame Renjun’s face, warm, and Renjun settled his own hands around Jaemin’s waist. “We’re just kissing.”

So Renjun let him, tilted his head back just that much, to have Jaemin just that much closer. He smiled back when Jaemin smiled into the kiss, and they parted.

“I missed you,” Jaemin almost whined, lips drawing into a pout.

Renjun laughed and wound his arms a little tighter around Jaemin’s middle. “Again, we saw each other this morning. It’s only been a few hours, you baby.” He felt rather than heard Jaemin hum when he pressed his nose against his cheek.

“Well, I’m dependent on you now,” Jaemin joked. “Can’t go too long without seeing you or I might die.”

That drew another laugh out of Renjun, and he didn’t oppose when Jaemin leaned in to kiss him again. He wasn’t dependent on seeing Jaemin every hour of every day, he didn’t think, but it had still been a little weird to leave him at the house and apparate to Hogwarts on his own, even if he’d known that Jaemin would be joining him soon.

They moved out of his office soon enough and instead settled down on Renjun’s bed to press a few more kisses to each other’s faces and tangle up until they lost track of their limbs.

Renjun rested his cheek on top of Jaemin’s head and hummed when Jaemin’s face settled against his collarbones.

“Did you talk to Mrs. Lee yet, or did you come straight here?” Renjun asked after a moment of comfortable silence.

Jaemin’s thumb brushed over the back of his hand, and he could feel him smile against his neck. “I talked to her before I came up here, I promised. She said yes, obviously, I already asked her last summer. She also offered me a place to stay, that she’d be more than happy to let me stay with them and surely Jeno would like that too, but I said thank you and that while I may come back to her offer one day, for now, I already have a place to stay.”

Renjun smiled and carded his free hand through the back of Jaemin’s hair. “Who said I’ll let you sleep here?”

He could feel Jaemin smile against his neck again. “Well, you better, or else I will have to sleep outside your door night for night, begging for you to let me in, yearning for your love, until I die from either the cold or my broken heart.”

“Or maybe from Peeves setting a dung bomb on you,” Renjun offered, and Jaemin laughed.

“Yeah, or maybe that.” He pulled his face away from Renjun’s neck to smile up at him, eyes twinkling. “Or you could just offer me a place in your generous bed, and neither of us will have to deal with that.”

“Hmm.” Renjun leaned down to rest his puckered lips against the tip of Jaemin’s nose and hum against him until he squirmed away, ticklish. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“You’re a meanie,” Jaemin accused, but he resumed resting his head against Renjun’s chest.

“You love me.” Renjun resumed stroking his hair.

“I do,” Jaemin whispered very quietly, and Renjun held him just a bit tighter, a smile blossoming on his face.

Loud steps in the hallway were what pulled Renjun out of his trance, head almost vanishing between the pages of essays he had to grade, and they were only a few weeks into the school year. This had definitely looked easier on Mark.

It was well past bedtime even for a Saturday, and no group of multiple sets of steps like the one outside his door was still supposed to be out in the corridors. Teachers, some prefects and this year’s head girl and boy might be out there to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be, but they didn’t travel in groups.

Renjun pushed himself out of his chair, passed by the door of the bedroom, where Jaemin was already peacefully asleep, and approached the door to the corridor. The steps drew steadily closer.

Just as he reached for the door handle, a loud knock sounded from the other side.

He frowned, and opened the door only to nearly be tackled to the ground by a grinning warmth in the shape of Donghyuck, hands wrapping around his shoulders and a chest colliding into his own. They tumbled backwards into the office as Renjun let out an oof and more people piled into the room behind Donghyuck — Mark and Jeno.

“What are you doing here?” Renjun wheezed once he’d untangled himself from Donghyuck.

Jeno shrugged and moved to help him up. “We just came to visit you three. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Donghyuck didn’t stop grinning, and all the commotion seemed to have woken Jaemin up, too, as the bedroom door swung open a second later to reveal a rather disgruntled looking head of dark hair and eyes squinting against the light.

“Ooh, someone was sleeping already,” Donghyuck cooed as he and Mark tag teamed to attack Jaemin, ruffling his hair even more and pulling him even further into the room. Jaemin whined, but he let them, and Renjun just watched.

“You really came halfway across the country to visit us in the middle of the night?”

Jeno shrugged as he hooked his arm around Mark’s shoulders to pull him away from Jaemin and give the poor boy some peace. “I was going to visit Mark, anyway, and Donghyuck suggested he come along and we visit all of you.”

They settled around the tiny desk, sitting on the floor as Renjun still had to put in any other furniture, but it was okay. With all of his friends here, snuggling close together as Donghyuck fished a bottle of firewhiskey from his bag and Jeno emptied his bag of sweets from his parents on the floor, everything was okay. He leaned back into Jaemin’s shoulder.

Donghyuck told a corny joke and Mark slapped him on the shoulder for it, and they all laughed, and it felt like home.

This truly, honestly felt like home, where he could lean against the person he’s loved for most of his life, and all of his friends were laughing around him, like there was no care in the world, and things seemed to fit again. Finally.

Things hadn’t been okay for a very long time. _Renjun_ hadn’t been okay for a very long time, and it would take a while until he was again, until he could look at himself in the mirror and say, _hey, I love you._ The way he said it to Jaemin, with all his heart, and the way Jaemin said it to him, with all the universe in his eyes and his good and forgiving hands.

It wasn’t about falling in love. It wasn’t about growing stronger. He hadn’t grown stronger from what he’d gone through. He’d already been strong, and the journey had been about realizing that strength. Realizing that he could, could say yes, could say _I love you,_ could reach out and take a hand that was offered to him, if he wanted to. It was not about becoming stronger, or about growing and changing. It was about finding that he already was all of these things.

It wasn’t about accepting his scars as part of himself, but realizing that they didn’t change who he was. It wasn’t about thinking that his trauma made him stronger, but that he had already been strong to begin with.

And that it was okay to fall back sometimes, or to not be ready. That he wasn’t at fault for crying over his scars, or his nightmares, or about how unfair it all was. He wasn’t weak. He just had to learn that there was more to healing than an arm around his waist and a whispered I love you in his ear. There was more to healing than accepting what had happened. That there were bumps in the road, and that it was not a linear process.

He tried so hard to let himself have these kinds of happy moments, his friends’ laughter, the warmth of the office. Jaemin kissing his cheek, and his lips. They were good things, good memories, and while they didn’t speed up his healing, they still felt good, and that was enough. Not everything he did had to have to do with becoming better.

He was allowed to have good things. And this was such a good thing.

He let his head fall against Jaemin and laughed at a joke, and he basked in the warmth. This was good. This was home. He hadn’t been home in so long.

Jaemin’s hands were so gentle, brushing the towel over his shoulders, careful with the wound on his clavicle.

The sun fell in through the window, illuminating the white of the cabinet to his right, the neatly folded pile of his clothes, the fresh bandage Jaemin had set out without Renjun telling him to, their wands, placed next to each other.

Outside, birds chirped in the trees, singing the song of a new summer. Over a year since Renjun had been bitten.

They were quiet, Renjun because he was tired, Jaemin because he didn’t need to say anything. Things went unspoken between them, had for a long time. Renjun wrapped an arm around Jaemin’s middle when they slept, Jaemin brought back a bag of sweets from work, climbing the stairs to Renjun’s office to find him still at his desk.

Their hands threaded back together after a fight, a hefty screaming session that kept the students out of their beds, a staring match that led nowhere, clashing words and a tear in Renjun’s hand afterwards. _I didn’t mean that._

_I know you didn’t._

He didn’t have to say it, but he did so anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Jaemin’s hands stilled on his arms, still holding the towel against his skin, warmed from the bath. The potions they had poured into the water had left Renjun almost numb to the touch, but a touch from Jaemin always sparked in him.

“It’s okay,” Jaemin said, but Renjun knew that he was still grateful. “You didn’t do it on purpose.”

“In the moment I did,” Renjun breathed. “But I didn’t mean it. I’m really sorry.”

Jaemin hummed, and Renjun knew he understood. It was a conversation they’d had too many times, because it was still hard to deal with. A kind of irrational jealousy, of Jaemin and his healthy body, healthy mind. Flashes of anger that he couldn’t control, that he had to go through things and others didn’t, that Jaemin could never fully understand what it felt like, that he assumed he could, anger at the world that he’d been tortured like this and the only one who was always around to experience them was Jaemin. It made Renjun feel even worse about himself, but Jaemin never blamed him.

He never cared about all the unpretty things Renjun did. The scratches in the kitchen counter, the covered mirrors, a corner broken off his desk at school. Piles of essays, sleepless nights, pillows stained with spit and tears.

Jaemin was just there. Always just there, never condemning him, consoling where he could. He didn’t turn away when Renjun snapped at him; he yelled back when they fought because Renjun was an asshole and he deserved to be treated like one, but he never blamed him for it. For being an asshole, or for being out of his mind, or for coping.

Renjun did nasty things on purpose, he said things just to hurt; he broke things just to break. Jaemin never blamed him for it, but they both knew Renjun needed to apologize, if he ever wanted to grow from it.

Jaemin rested his forehead against the back of Renjun’s neck. Breathed. “I love you.”

There were other times, when Jaemin brushed a thumb over his cheek, or stared into his eyes with that intense gaze of his, or held his hand, or all at once, and he said, _You are so strong. You choose to be kind._

It was what Renjun reminded himself of, when he spun around and said it back, “I love you.”

He chose to be kind. He chose to apologize when he had fucked up with the person he loved; he chose to get up every day and try to be better, and he chose to make amends when it all spilled from his hands again.

Jaemin was only there to be beside him while he did. A hand to steady him when he slipped.

The rest, he did all by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it!! Thank you so much to everyone who made it this far and who left kudos and comments, they really make my day even if I can't always find the energy to reply to them all. This fic is honestly such a part of myself, and it's so strange that it's over now. Thank you again, thank you!! I really hope you enjoyed it at least a little, and if you did, let me know! ♥
> 
> You can find me on Twitter at @kitthae


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